


A crime and Punishment

by haleyross



Series: The View From The Observatory [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post-Season/Series 03, Supernatural Elements, starts out sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-07 23:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 118,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleyross/pseuds/haleyross
Summary: A little overdone sure, but I've been working on this a while so might as well post it!Chloe and Lucifer hash out their relationship after she finally finds out who he is. There is still something holding him back though and a new lieutenant isn't making things easier.





	1. A Beautiful Rage

Lucifer sat on his penthouse balcony staring silently into the Los Angeles night. His eyes glazed over, wanting to cry but having too much pride to let a single tear drop. He sighed and released the building tension. It was just enough to knock him out of his thoughts and help him focus on the task at hand.

He brought the glass up to his mouth and took another sip of the dark and sweet liquid. It was his fifth glass, but it did nothing. The devil couldn’t get drunk no matter how much he wanted.

It was the middle of the night, and despite being up all day, he couldn’t sleep. There were too many thoughts racing through his mind, and the alcohol couldn’t help numb them. He kept thinking back to that day.

_It’s all true_. The Detective's words kept bouncing around in his mind, accompanied by the look of shock – or had it been terror? – across her face.

\--

“Detective?” he asked, curious as to why she was so frozen. Had she heard the conversation between Cain and him? Had she watched him sink the dagger into his chest?

He turned, catching a glance of his reflection in a chromed statue near the wall.

Oh. It had become all too apparent. His devil face was back and in full form. He slowly turned to her, a look of recognition on both of their faces.

“I ...“ he struggled to get the words out. A was lump forming in his throat, and he could feel his eyes getting blurrier.

“I never lied to you, Detective.” He said, his gaze lowering. _But I never forced you to believe me either_ , a voice in his head chimed. How could he? He was all about free will. If the Detective didn’t want to know, he couldn’t make her. _But maybe he should have? Maybe it was a lie by omission?_

He stood there lost in his thoughts, but the footsteps up the back stairway knocked him out of it. It was backup — tens, if not dozens of police coming to help them.

He turned back to the mirror, his devil face still on proud display. Then he turned to the floor, covered in bloody feathers. Their eyes locked again. She was still in shock, he could see it in her eyes. He recognized that look and felt a tightness move through his chest he had never felt before.

“I ... I must go now.” He said, motioning to the stairway. Her eyes briefly left him and reluctantly nodded. He slowly walked past her, their eyes averting any connection. He had already gone through the upper stairwell by the time he heard the door bust open below, and dozens of officers no doubt swarmed the room swarming.

\--

That was mere hours ago, but it already felt like an eternity. He brought another glass to his mouth and took a final gulp. His face was back, having lost his anger, but the damage had been done. The Detective had seen him, all of him, and the look on her face was enough to make the devil cry.

He sighed again and leaned back into his chair. A once beautiful scene now lost to him as he seemingly looked past it into a dark void.

_What time was it anyway?_

He brought his wrist up to peek at his watch; it was 3 a.m. Usually, he’d be rolling naked in the sheets with a few patrons from the club downstairs at this time. Even now he could hear the music downstairs pumping, but it did nothing. For the first time, he could feel a millennium of emptiness bubbling inside of him and not even the world’s most expensive bourbon could fix it.

_Maybe I should call her?_ He thought, his mind grasping at straws trying to fix the problem, but there was no fixing this; not this time. _Maybe I should just go back home_ , he thought, resigned to the truth. The detective wouldn't want him now, now that she knew.

He poured another two shots of bourbon for himself; he hadn't even noticed a slight warmth coming over his whole body.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged behind him. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“Not tonight Maze,” he said, his words thick with sadness, “I don’t want or need your comfort.” He brought another sip to his lips.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” a voice from behind him said. It was a familiar voice, one he hadn’t expected to hear ever again.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stood there, her heart pounding loudly in her chest as he walked by. His familiar scene flew past her, but it was different. She could smell the fire on him as though he had walked through a burning building. All this time he had been telling her the truth. He was he actually the devil.

It felt like slow motion when the police burst through the back stairway. With their guns drawn they spread out; clearing the room. Dan ran straight to her, a look of concern in his eyes. He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear it. The world had slowed down, and all she could think of was Lucifer, _the Devil_.

 --

“Chloe?” Dan said as he passed her a cup of coffee. She was back now; somehow they were in the station. They were alone in an interrogation room. Had she not remembered the ride back?

“Are you okay?” he said, reaching his arm out to her shoulder. She looked around, then down at the coffee.

“I…I don’t,” she began to stutter.

“it’s okay,” he said, “you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Her eyes began to tear up.

“That’s just it, Dan. I’m not okay.”

He rushed in to hug her as tears flooded her eyes. She closed them tight, but she couldn’t unsee what she had seen. Dan held her, he wouldn’t let go and neither would she. Dan hadn't felt a hug like this, not since Charlotte. It had only been a day since she was gone, but all he wanted to do was hold her again. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, until a gentle knock on the door knocked them out of their comfort. They looked up to see Ella enter and gently shut the door behind her. She had bagged the knife, still dripping with Lt. Peirce’s blood, into an evidence bag.

 

“I figured you might want this back,” she said to Chloe.

She looked it, that knife … it seemed familiar. She grabbed the bag slowly and looked it over. It was Maze’s. A deep look of recognition in her eye followed by fear. Maze always mentioned she was a demon; maybe she too was telling the truth.

Ella piped up, “they found a bunch of files from the sinner man in Peirce’s office, and because his wounds were definitely in self-defense, they want to keep this on the hush. "

Dan nodded, separating from Chloe and sitting back in the chair across from her. "They’d’ rather sweep this under the rug,” he said, nodding assuringly to Chloe.

Ella nodded then a look of confusion fell over her face.

"Where's Lucifer?" she asked.

"He uh ... I asked him to leave," she said, trying not to betray what she knew. Who would believe her anyway?

Dan reached his hand out to Chloe,"Hey," he said, drawing her attention away from the knife, "he saved your life. If he hadn't done what he did, you both would have been dead."

She nodded, "he did save my life," she managed to get out.

"Is he okay?" Ellas asked.  
Chloe looked up to her, and for the first time, she honestly didn't know the answer.

 --

An hour later, she pulled into her driveway and stopped. Was she actually considering the Devil's feelings? I mean, she had known her Partner for long enough to know that he was a lot of things, including now the devil, but ... evil? It was all too much to process. She grabbed her bag off the seat next to her, revealing the evidence bag with the bloody knife. Her eyes drifted to it. Maze. She gathered her items and headed into her home.  
Inside she was met with a frightening sight. Maze and Trixie were napping on the couch and were intertwined with one another. It would have been sweet if it weren’t for her new found knowledge that Maze was actually a demon.

She dropped the evidence bag with the knife on the coffee table nearby, and it was enough to wake them both. Maze looked at her, then the knife.

“Oh, you found my knife! I was looking for this! Thanks, Chloe,” she said reaching for the bag, “you could have at least cleaned it.”

“Monkey go to your room,” Chloe said sternly. Her daughter looked at her confused, half awake and half asleep.

“What’s going on mommy?” she asked.

“Just go to your room, mommy will be there in a bit.”

Trixie shrugged and sluggishly walked to her room, closing the door behind her. Maze sat up, ready for whatever Chloe was about to say.

"Before you say anything." Maze started," I know. I shouldn't just leave my knife laying around for humans to get their hands on."

“Where did you get this knife?” Chloe asked, already knowing the answer.

“I told you, I brought it from home.”

“You mean Hell,” Chloe responded.

Maze looked up at her; she recognized that look; the jig was up. She smiled and sat back.

"Welcome to the club Chloe, took you long enough."

Chloe didn't respond. She just stared at Maze with a look neither of them could translate. Maze nodded, and a crooked smile came across her face.

“You saw his face didn’t you?” she asked, already knowing this was about Lucifer. It was always about Lucifer.

Chloe nodded, the tears starting to flow again. She rested her arm against the chair as her knees buckled beneath her.

“It was horrible,” she said, momentarily forgetting she was talking to a demon. Maze sighed and slithered onto the floor nearby her.

“If by horrible you mean beautiful," she said, licking her lips and thinking back to better times; before she came to earth. To times when her interactions with humans was torturing them and not watching Spongebob Squarepants with their offspring. The thought of home sent tingles up her spine … and other places.

Chloe looked at her confused. Maze rolled her eyes and brought her knees to her chest. She grabbed the bag from the table. Chloe watched her intently.

“If it helps any, it's not really his face," she said, pulling the knife out of the bag,

"It isn't?" she asked. Maze shook her head.

"When Lucifer fell he was hated in the heavens and on earth. I mean literally, the entirety of existence was against him. That is ... except for me," she finished, smugly. Before a certain sadness fell over her on the realization that her loyalty didn't win any more of his affection.

Chloe stared off in the distance. Was she actually feeling bad for the devil?

"Do you know what happens when you're cast out of heaven?" Maze asks, already knowing Chloe doesn't know the answer.  
"You burn. And not like a figurative thing either. It's a literal burn. It's like a ...space shuttle re-entering the earth's orbit."

Chloe tosses her a glance.

"What?" she replies, "I watch documentaries too. They're boring, but so it most of the stuff you humans tend to find entertaining."  
Chloe chuckled. Maze let's go a smile knowing she has managed to fix yet another one of Lucifer's fuck ups. Her smile fades, however as she remembers more. She continues her story, less about Lucifer and more about her.

"Before he came, hell was ... miserable and not in the good way. It was demon after demon trying to survive. Not understanding why we were created and ... cast aside so easily."

Chloe watched her and noticed pain and softness there she only saw so few times. She wanted to reach out and hold her but ... something inside her was still frightened. Then a question bubbled to the surface.

"What... what is a demon?" she asked, curious. Maze looked at her. Humans had such a silly thirst for knowledge. Still, no one had ever asked her that. Why had no one ever asked her that?

"You know when you make pancakes in the morning," Maze asked. Chloe nodded.

"How does the first one usually turn out?" Maze continued.

Chloe chuckled. "Awful," she responded, " I mean, still delicious but ...not perfect."

Maze nodded. "That's what a demon is, the first pancake of humanity. It's what you were before God figured out the whole ... soul and free will thing."

"So you don't have a soul?" Chloe asked, "but ... what happens when you die? Do demons die?"  
Maze looks down at the knife. She nods.  
"We can," she said, "and when we do we just ... no longer exist. Not in heaven, not in hell. Nowhere."

They were both silent; lost in their thoughts.

"Anyway," Maze continued, " a lovingness to her words, "I remember when I first saw him. He was charred from head to toe. His wings were ... bloodied and burned but still intact. Now, I hadn't seen an angel in quite a while, but ... even in his shape, he was beautiful. I felt like God had finally remembered us."  
She shook her head. Tears coming to her eyes as though she was joyful, but then her gaze dropped.  
"But when I saw it in his eyes I knew otherwise. The rage ... the beautiful rage."

Chloe couldn't stop herself anymore. She reached a hand-out and took Maze's hand into her own. Maze looked at her, their eyes met. They were both in the same place. It reminded Chloe of the first time she saw Lucifer. He was annoying and smug, and everything in her wanted to kick him square in the nuts. Deep down, though, she was intrigued by him.

"Anyway," Maze said, pulling her hand away, "It took him thousands of years to heal the burns. I think he wanted them to last. To remind him why he was there. To fuel his need for justice and punishment.” Her eyes turned back to the blade in her hand. She brought it to her face. The blood was very fresh.

"Who's blood is this?" she asked, stopping her story.

Chloe knocked out of her trance just long enough to answer. "Oh," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's Pierce's." Maze looked shocked, she was about to say something but was interrupted.

_Wait, punishment?_ Chloe asked herself, realizing all the times Lucifer mentioned punishing evil people. _Had he punished Pierce? Was he punishing himself?_

Chloe sighed and let her body sink into the fabric of the side of the chair. Then her head turned to Maze. Maze the demon. Maze, the demon, who was cleaning blood off a strange knife on the floor of her living room.

“And you’re a demon?” She said in a manner that was clearly rhetorical but hinted at an underlying - albeit reluctant - acceptance.

Maze nodded. She had been through this before with Linda, but it seemed Chloe was taking it much better. I guess Lucifer was good for something.

Chloe sat there, deep in thought. She was torn. Everything she had read about the Devil and his companions was fire and brimstone, yet in her heart, she knew him as different. He had confessed to her on the balcony of his penthouse that he was the devil, in no uncertain terms. The look of relief in his eyes, of love, was not fake. Did she really still have feelings for him?

She nodded her head, the gravity of what was weighing on her mind. Her eyes widened, “I need a drink,” she said. Maze smirked and pulled a half drunken beer off the coffee table.

“Knock yourself out,” she said.  
Chloe raised the beer to her lips and just as she took a large chug, Maze chimed in.  
"Oh, and Decker?"  
Chloe turned her eyes to see a look of seriousness on Maze's face.  
"Don't ever tell anyone I told you that story."  
For as much as Maze liked to be in control and powerful, and despite her trying to be that now, Chloe recognized that behind that bravado, there was something real. Something almost ... human.

\--  
That had been earlier; before she pulled herself off the floor and tried to drown the stress of the day in a warm shower. That was before she climbed into her bed earlier than usual and tried to sleep the thoughts away. She had spent all day racking her brain with questions and emotions, and nothing did anything to silence it all. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn’t sleep with so much on her mind. So now here she was, standing in the elevator of Lucifer’s penthouse; the Devil. Ready to press button that would take her to him.  She sighed and pressed the up button. The elevator whirred beneath her.

\---------------------------------------------------------

“Detective?” Lucifer said, twirling around in his chair with that charming smile,” what a pleasant surprise.” He was smiling on the outside, but inside his stomach was electrified with terror and nerves.

She looked around, unsure about what she was doing before slowly approaching. He watched every cautious step she made, a knot forming in his throat. He didn’t move, not one inch, afraid he might scare her away. Yet he was also afraid - perhaps more - of what would happen if she stayed. She crossed the threshold to his balcony. He stood, turned to her and met her gaze. They were both speechless, a definite first for him.

The wind from the balcony grazed their body, and despite a bustling city and hopping club beneath them, the world felt still. He remembered this feeling. In the pit of his gut, it reminded him of his fall.

She looked down at the glass in his hand. He brought it up to offer it to her, and she took it, tossing back the final bit inside the glass before handing it back to him. A faint smile crept across his face; the kind one has when they are apologetic, not happy. Her wide blue eyes never left his gaze.

  
“I suppose you have questions,” he said, slowly sitting back down in his chair, careful of his movements. She followed his lead and claimed the chair next to him.

She nodded, leaning forward onto her knees, her eyes drifting off and betraying a million thoughts running through her mind. He watched her, waiting for the earth to swallow him whole.

“I never lied to you, Detective,” he said, his eyes not leaving the glass.

She nodded, “I know.”

There they sat silent for a moment, a cold night breeze flying past them.

“I just …,” she continued, trying to form words, “I thought you were speaking in metaphors. Though, I guess deep down … if I really had to be honest, something in me knew you weren’t.”

“Yes, well,” he continued as he poured another glass before handing it to her,” I think we both knew we were living in the grey area of denial.” She accepted it, their fingers grazing for a moment. Their eyes met before their hands slowly parted. She sighed and held the glass between her palms.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, “I didn’t listen to you. I mean, I go on and on about how you never listen to me, and here I am ignoring you every time you try and tell me.”

“No, it’s my fault Detective. I knew this whole thing couldn’t last. I kept you in the dark because of the truth and well..” he said, trailing off.

It was night time, and the lights on the balcony weren’t bright, but she could still see the hurt in his eyes.

“The truth hurts,” she said, finishing his sentence, but more so starting her own. She turned to him. He was facing towards the open air now, the moon casting a blue light on the side of his face. When she saw his face earlier, it was red and firey. His cheekbones extruded violently like a mountain on the side of his face and his cheeks sunken in like its valley. Now, however, his skin was soft and pale. She wanted to reach up and touch it, to make sure it was real. Before she could hesitate, she did. He seemed shocked at her touch, but his face turned into her palm welcomingly.

He wanted to stay there, in her touch and never leave, but the events of the day never left his mind. She had jumped in front of a bullet for him; he couldn't let that happen again.  
“I have to go home Detective, back to hell,” he said sadly. She jerked her hand back and he closed his eyes as the cold night air hit the side of his face.

“What? Why?” she said, sitting up in her chair.

“I can’t stay here. You make me vulnerable and … well, I realized that as long as I am here, you will be in harm's way.”

She shook her head, “Lucifer, you know more than I that going back won’t change that.”

He nodded and smiled. She was too smart for her own good, but I guess that is why he … loved her?

“Detective,” he began, almost apologetically.

She set her glass down, “Lucifer enough,” She said as she stood before him, blocking the moonlight with her body and casting a shadow onto his face. She could only see the glassy look of his deep brown eyes staring back at her.

“I ... I’ve stuck my neck out for you ever since we started working together. I trusted you, despite everything and everyone outside of me saying not to. You can’t just leave me. You've done it before, and I won't let you do that to me again!” she said, starting to choke on her words.

He stood quickly and embraced her before she could get the words out. It was too real; too painful. She stood there reluctantly at first, but the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body was a welcome comfort; A comfort she so badly needed. She slowly reached in, wrapping her arms around his torso. Gently at first, then tight, like she was afraid to let go. Lucifer winced in pain, but she didn’t notice. She just wanted to stay there forever.

When she finally let go, he looked down at her lovingly. He reached his thumb up and wiped away a fallen tear before kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes and accepted it.

"Okay Detective. Okay," he said, knowing he didn't need her permission.

When she let go, she noticed a wet and dark stain on her hands. Is that...Blood? She looked up, shocked at Lucifer and turned him around quickly before seeing two large dark and wet stains on the back of his shirt.

“Lucifer,” she said with a heavy heart, “you’re bleeding!”

He walked away from her grip and headed back inside to prevent her from investigating his back more. It wasn’t like she didn’t know the truth now, but he didn’t want to remind her too much of who he was. Sprouting bloody wings in the center of his living room wouldn’t do much to ease her into the whole, divinity thing.

“Ah, yes,” he said,” a bit of residual from the day’s antics I’m afraid.”

“You need to see a doctor!” she said, following him and then stopping next to his piano as if remember who he was, “or …wait, do you see a doctor?”

He chuckled and got out two glasses. “Detective, no worries. They will heal on their own …eventually.”

“They?” she said, already knowing the answer but wanting him to say it out loud.

He scoffed at her pretending to play dumb, slightly annoyed. “My wings Darling, my wings!”

He poured himself another drink. Chloe stood there, shuffling nervously.

“Do you … Can I help? Is there anything I can do?”

“Short of cutting them off for me,” he said bringing a glass up to his lips, “No.”

He took a sip and thought for a moment. “Unless…” he trailed off.

She took a step forward, hanging onto his every word.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to dig out a bullet, would you? Though, I suppose that’s more of our dear friend Doctor Linda’s wheelhouse.”

She nodded, then it clicked what she said.

“Wait, wait. Does Linda know?” she asked, stepping up to the bar.

“Of course, she does Darling. She’s my therapist.”

Chloe shook her head. Enough was enough. If she wanted to truth, _the whole truth_ , she would have to ask.

“Lucifer,” she said, “crossing to the bar, "No more secrets. I want to know _everything_.”

He poured himself another drink. He looked at the Detective. She had that look in her eyes where she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was resolute. He liked that about her. He let out a giant sigh and poured her a drink.

“Very well then,” he said, sliding the glass her way, “Where shall I begin, hmm?”

 


	2. Tale as old as Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer attempt to work things out while they are both physically and mentally exhausted.

By the time he had explained everything that had happened to him, the city had been bustling below them for hours, and neither of them had taken a moment to sleep or eat. Still, he had purposefully left out many details, his heart - even now - afraid to let go of everything.

Chloe was still listening, he could tell, but her eyes were closed now, and her head rested gently against the cushion of his sofa. She was getting tired; either because the day had been long, or the story had been too heavy for her mind to carry.

  
“Detective?” he said. She hummed a response, to let him know she was still awake but barely. He let go a small smile.

  
“I don’t understand how you are so calm,” he says, almost to himself. Her eyes open, and a beam of sun crashes blindingly into it. She squints and sits up. He turns his head to her, not expecting her to still have the energy to sit upright.

  
“Lucifer, I’m _horrified_ ,” she says softly, her eyes darting back and forth. It’s so much information, so much life-changing, world collapsing information and she doesn't know how to feel about it all except, horrified.

“I haven’t slept in 24 hours, and I’m in the devil's living room discussing the creation of time.”

  
“Well, technically we didn’t discuss that. I figured that would be a lesson for another day.” He said, with a smirk.

  
“You’ve got to understand it’s a lot to digest,” she said, not taking his charming bait.

  
“I know, Detective, I know.” He shakes his head at the situation that had forced him to reveal himself to her. He turns his head to her to see her staring back so quizzingly.

  
“What is going through your head?” she asks, her eyes searching him like a dictionary, trying to find a word that fits. But nothing fits. 

  
“Just thinking how everything will change now,” he says, almost melancholy. She reaches her hands out and grasps his.

  
“Nothing has changed,” she says, before trailing her eyes off and correcting her statement, “well. .. _a lot_ has changed, okay.”

  
He chuckles, a lighthearted laugh filled with hope and not sadness. It’s the first one of the evening.

  
“But, _you_ haven’t changed.” She says. He turns back to her.

“You’ve always been Lucifer,” she says,” sitting back and resting against the armrest of the couch. A smile coming to her face as if she were remembering some far off -yet fond - memory.

  
“You were Lucifer when I met you. You were Lucifer when we finished our first case together. You were Lucifer when you threw that guy through the glass window ..."

  
"I did offer to pay for that glass, Detective," he says, in an apologetic tone.

  
"You were Lucifer when we played monopoly with Trixie ...you were _definitely_ Lucifer when I had to pretend to be Candy. I mean, the couples therapy session, that was a -"

  
"Point, taken, Detective," he says. She smiles to herself.

  
"The point is ... you never lied to me about who you were, even when it was frustrating and annoying and maddening and … _exasperating_ –“

  
She looks at him, and there is a look in his eyes as if to suggest she should end her sentence right there.

  
“You haven’t changed," she finishes,"I think that’s what has made this easier. You never lied to me.”

  
“And I never will,” he says pointedly.

  
“Yes,” she says, “You haven’t changed, just ... the world,” she says, staring silently into nothing.

  
“Just in case it weren't abundantly clear, Detective, I would never hurt you.” He says. She smiles a knowing smile. He was the devil, but he was much more than that to her. She closes her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the cushion once more. The silence falls on them again. He smiles and stands up, heading towards his bedroom.

For a moment Chloe wonders if she should follow. The thought would have never crossed her mind before she knew he was the devil. But now, she wonders, Is there some sort of etiquette? Does she have to be his pet now? Following him wherever he goes. _What even are they?_ What would happen if she actually became intimate with the Devil? Could he love her? Could Angels love humans? She couldn't believe it was all real. Angels, God, the Goddess of creation. Cain. She sits straight up, her eyes wide with horror.

“I had sex with Cain,” she said out loud, the horror in her face. Lucifer chuckles from his bedroom and appears in the archway, a blanket in hand.

  
“Yes Detective, I think we can both agree that was an ill-planned idea,” she turns to him, her eyes staring daggers. She shakes her head.

  
“I fucked the world's first murderer,” she says as if it weren't real; as if she were working through that thought in her head, but out loud. Lucifer opens his mouth like he wants to say something but decides against it. 

  
“Oh, Come now Detective,” he says throwing her an olive branch,” I’ve had worst lovers in my bed.”

  
He reaches the couch now and gently lays the blanket over her. She looks at him, her eyes soft and full of love. Still, they are red from lack of sleep. He can tell she is exhausted.

  
“I’ll tell you about them sometime,” he says, a soft smile across his face as he sits back in his spot next to her on the couch.

  
“Please don’t,” she says softly, as she rests her head back down on the couch pillow, a grin across her face.

  
“You require rest,” he says, not necessarily suggesting it and stretching her legs out before setting them gently on his lap. He straightens the blanket so her whole body, even down to her toes, is covered. The night had been peppered with silent moments, each one thick and bleeding into the next like molasses. This one, however, is different. It’s light; it’s airy; it’s comfortable.

  
Lucifer's eyes drift over her face. With her eyes closed and a strand of hair gently cascading over her cheek, she looks heavenly. He notices a shard of light from the balcony going directly to her closed eyes. _I should close the blinds_ , he thinks. Then he realizes it would require he move. _I shouldn't disturb her_ , he tells himself, knowing fully, that's not the reason he doesn't want to move. He tilts his head just enough to cast her eyes in shadow, then he watches the tenseness in her eyes fade away.  
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he says softly. She smiles but doesn’t reply. Her smile softly fades and all Lucifer can hear is the soft rise and fall of her breathing. She’s finally asleep.

He’s seen _everything_ since the dawn of existence, he’s watched mountains forming through fire and violence, and he's even personally had a hand in decorating the sky with stars. But this, this he would watch forever. His eyes squint as he feels an unfamiliar pressure in his chest. He tilts his head upwards, remembering his wings are still filled with bullets and mistakes this feeling as being related. He can't heal with Chloe nearby, so he will have to wait.

  
\--

  
It’s evening time when she slowly opens her eyes, a dim light from the bar softening the darkness of the penthouse. She inhales deeply as she sits up and stretches. She looks around and sees no Lucifer.

  
“Lucifer?” she says, at an almost whisper while wiping the sleep from her eyes. Her body is still so tired. She rolls the blanket off of her and stands, almost tripping over her clumsy feet as she braces herself on the armchair. Her head yanks forward just enough for her to see the outline of Lucifer’s body on his bed. She stands up straight and walks forward for a better view. Something catches her eye in her peripheral vision, and she turns to the bar. A small smile crosses her face as she sees a covered plate on the bar. She turns her head to sleeping Lucifer and is torn. She wants to approach him, but she is also _so_ hungry. She bites her lower lip and gives in, turning to the plate on the bar.

She grasps the lid and lifts it to reveal a bowl of chicken and pasta. Her eyes widen, and her stomach grumbles for relief. She quickly picks up the fork next to it and begins shoving fork full of pasta into her mouth. Her eyes roll back in her head. _This is the best fucking pasta she has ever eaten in her entire life_. She closes her eyes, reveling in the taste of tomatoes and grilled chicken. She swallows, feeling the lump go from her throat and down to her stomach. It calms her stomach and the slowly relieves the headache she hadn't realized she was developing. She takes forkful after forkful, savoring every bite. Just as she’s bringing her fifth fork full into her mouth, her eyes catch a glance of herself in the bar mirror. She looks like a monster; sauce on each side of her face, her hair wild and frayed and sleep still encrusting the corners of her tired eyes. She places the fork back in the bowl, composing herself.

_What if Lucifer saw her like this?_ She asks, as she cautiously turns towards his bedroom. She is expecting him to be standing there, either disgusted or pleased with himself. She relaxes, however, as she notices him still laying asleep in his bed. She grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth before walking towards the bedroom. She straightens her hair a bit and climbs the two small steps as she crosses into his room. She watches him, his eyes shut. She stares at him; the way one stares at a museum piece; intrigued. His perfectly coifed hair now lays asunder, revealing its impossibly curly nature.

She squints her eyes briefly. Something looks off about him, but she can’t put her finger on it. She turns her head slightly as her eyes cascade down his body. His chest rises and falls peacefully. She smiles and turns to the open door of his bathroom. A towel and a clean pair of pajamas sit on the sink. She turns back to him. _He is just full of surprises_ , she thinks as she reaches her hand up to pull a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning and gently shutting the bathroom door behind her. She reaches for the shower knob and turns on the shower, letting the water run warm. Slowly, she strips her clothing off until she is completely nude and cold. Quickly, she jumps into the shower, letting the warm water run down her body. It feels good. She can feel a tenseness she didn’t know was there draining from her body. She let’s go a sigh, her body relaxing under the heat.

  
_Nothing has changed_ , she tells herself, _just the entire fucking world._

  
_I would never lie to you._ His words jump around in her head, and she closes her eyes, fearing they will bounce out through her vision. Reluctantly she opens them as she can hear him shifting in his sleep. Her eyes catch the dim light leaking from beneath the bathroom door.  
He’s out there, she tells herself, and I’m in here. She imagines him slowly opening the door, his eyes filled with lust. He would slowly approach the shower door as their eyes lock. _He could have anyone in the world, but he is here with me_ , she would tell herself. She imagines him disrobing, their eyes locked in an understanding. Then, he would open the shower door and walk into the warm stream, unbothered. He would pull her closer, she tells herself, and their skin would touch with nothing between them. _Not anymore_.

Her hands slowly run down the inside of her thigh sending a cold tremble through her body.

She snaps out of it.

_Stop_ , she says, begging her mind not to go there. When he was just a man, it was fine. But now she knows he isn't, what does it mean? What does it mean to be in love with the devil?

She looks nearby and sees a bottle of shampoo. _I should probably get clean_ , she thinks. She grabs the bottle and breathes in its scent. It was his; a warm musk that sent shivers down her spine. She catches herself slipping into thoughts again and set it aside. _Bar soap will do_ , she says.

Finishing her shower, she steps out and wraps the towel around her naked body. She wipes the mirror free of fog with her hand, revealing her long, wet hair and her still tired eyes.

Moments later the bathroom door opens, and she steps out into the cold bedroom wearing a pair of his red silk pajamas. He still sleeps peacefully on his back. She eyes the spot next to him.

  
“Lucifer,” she says, reaching over to softly nudge him awake.

  
He grumbles.

  
“Detective, the devil needs his rest. I’d love to show you pleasures beyond your wildest imagination but …” he says trailing off and turning onto his side, getting back into a comfortable position,” can we wait until the morning?”

  
She rolls her eyes,"So we're speaking in third person now?" she says, knowing he can't hear her, as climbs into the spot behind him. She adjusts herself, pulling the sheets over her torso. Her eyes face out into the Los Angeles night. It is beautiful at night with lights lighting up the buildings below. Part of her wishes they would all shut off so she could see the stars. A thought crosses her mind. Didn’t Lucifer mention he had a part in making the stars? Is that why he chose the view? She turns to him, ready to ask him a question, but her eyes widen in terror.

  
She spikes up in bed, her hands already on his back before she yells, “Lucifer!”

  
She shakes him awake, and he grumbles to life.

  
“You’re still bleeding!” She says. He sits up and turns to see his uncharacteristically white sheets soaked in blood.

  
“Bloody hell!,” he says as he whips himself out of bed and pulls the covers back. The blood spot goes all the way down to his torso and is still warm and wet to touch.

  
“Excellent, It looks like I’ve had my first menses all over the bed,” he says, upset. _I just purchased these sheets! Serves me right for trying something new._

Chloe leaps out of bed and claws at his shirt, peeling it off of him. It sticks to him like freshly glued wallpaper; the blood acting as a glue. He winces as the spots hear his shoulder blade pull away from his shirt like taffy.

  
“You’re bleeding too much,” she says, finally recognizing what was off about him. She could see it now. His face was too pale and his body looked cold.

  
“No worries, Detective,” he says trying to turn around, but her hands won’t let him, “I’m the devil, Darling? Even your memory can’t be that short.”

  
“This isn’t funny,” she says sternly,” if we don’t stop this bleeding you could …” she doesn’t want to finish the sentence. Instead, she rushes to her phone in the living room. She returns to stand by him.

  
“We have to get you to a hospital,” she says, starting to dial emergency services.

  
“Maybe your memory is that bad,” he says, almost to himself as he grabs the phone out of her hand.

  
“ _Hello!_ The Devil speaking,” he says to her, “I doubt your human medicine will know anything about how to fix celestial wings.”

  
Right. Of course, she says to herself. She shakes her head, trying to get in the frame of mind. She inhales sharply.

  
“Okay,” she said, “so what do we do?”

  
“Well,” he says, handing her back her phone and walking towards the bar.

  
“The offer still stands, Darling.” He reaches the bar and pulls out a bottle of bourbon.

  
“I’m not having sex with you.” She says tiredly. He can’t use his charm to get out of her helping.

  
“Love the enthusiasm,” he says, “I’ll remember you said when I make you swallow your words...among other things.” He takes a sip of his drink as Chloe sighs and looks off in the distance. _Why even bother?_ she asks herself.

"Im' serious, Lucifer," she says, stepping towards him. Not backing down.

  
“Right, well it looks as though I require your assistance after all,” he says seriously this time,” unless you aren’t up for it. In which case, I’m sure we can pry Maze away from your offspring for a few hours if necessary.”

  
“What do you need?” she says approaching him. He looks at her. He’s seen that look before in her eyes. It’s the same look she got when she nearly begged him to tell her the truth; when she was searching, grasping for anything to hold onto to convince herself that she should stay. _I guess now was that time_ , he said to himself.

He let go a sigh,” I need you to … help me fix my wings.” He said, his eyes averting, watching her in the mirror of the bar.

“How?” she replied.

\----

  
Moments later, the coffee table on which he often set his books and liquor had an assortment of warm towels, pliers and a thick needle and thread. Chloe sat on the couch, nervous waiting for Lucifer to finish washing the blood off his back. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom behind her, his pants now off and only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. It takes everything in Chloe to not look down. She stares into his eyes, concentrating, _fighting_ against her urge to look. But she wants to look. Oh, how she was _eager_   to look.

“Okay,” he says approaching the couch, “I must warn you, they might catch you off guard for a moment.”

  
She nods, snapping her brain out of its struggle. It sounds like he is preparing her for war.

  
“Take all the time you need, okay? Just … don’t stare too long. You’ll end up needing glasses.” He smirks.

  
Chloe squints, not sure if he is serious. Reluctantly she nods. He sighs and closes his eyes. Shortly after, the sound of bones crunching and shifting is followed by a single wing – bloodied and frayed – popping out of his left shoulder blade. The look on his face is agonizing.

  
“One more,” he says, holding his finger out as if to suggest she should wait. The second wing unfurls the same; bloodied and damaged.

Chloe stares on. She was prepared for this but at the same time not. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops. She looks at Lucifer; his eyes scan hers patiently. She brings a hand to her mouth and before slowly moving towards him.

“I.” she tries to get out, “I … I don’t know what to say,” she says, tripping over her words.

“They’re …” she begins, walking closer.

He nods, “Beautiful, celestial..yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before –“ he says, interrupting her, wanting her to speed through the normal human banter.

  
“Wings.” She finishes.

  
He pauses, taken back by her less that stellar review. That was not the word he was looking for.

"I beg your pardon?" he says. He didn't want her to fawn over his wings, but at the same time, he expected a little _admiration_.

She turns him around gently lays a hand on one of the feathers. They are just wings. She remembers the first time she saw his back; there were scars where his wings were now, and he refused to let her examine them. Now that she was up close, she could see the skin beneath his wings were smooth, albeit bloodied and scratched. It explained so much. He was so angry when he thought his wings had been stolen, he had searched high and low for them. _How could anyone cut these off?_ she thought

“Detective,” Lucifer said. It knocked her out of her trance,” You don’t seem moved by them at all,” he said confused," I hope this isn't your standard reaction to the male body."

“No, Lucifer,” she says,  scoffing at his sensitivity. She catches herself, Lucifer is sensitive?“ They’re wonderful," she replies, "they’re just …”

He stares at her in the mirror of the bar. Her eyes look at them like one looks at a puzzle. She scans them, almost trying to figure out where to start. It’s not the look of someone amazed or in awe. _Why is she not in awe?_ He asks himself. Every human is in awe.

“Right,” she says, finally figuring out where to begin, "Time to get down to business.”

She reaches onto the coffee table and picks up a warm washcloth. She brings it to his wing, reaching upwards to wipe the crusted blood off his feathers.   
He sees her having trouble reaching, so he places one knee to the ground before the other, kneeling before her. Her heart stops. _The devil is literally kneeling for her._

  
“Don’t get used to it,” he says, almost reading her mind,” this is not something I do for _anyone_. Not even my father.”

  
She smiles, “Likewise.” His eyes wander to the mirror that lines the front of his bar; their eyes locked in silence. Her gaze then falls to her hands, where the washcloth traces warmly around the bullet holes, cleaning the entry wounds. Dark blood, still warm to touch, oozes out of it.

  
“This is bad,” she says, ”I don’t know how wings work, but this looks bad.”

  
He doesn’t respond. He just watches her, his eyes tracing every single movement. She reaches down and picks up a long pair of pliers; their eyes meet again. She nods, and he closes his eyes, bracing himself. Apologetically, she dips the pliers into the bullet hole, making his wings visibly tremble from the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says, as she twists the pliers into position; her other hand feeling for the depth of the bullet. When she is sure she has it clamped, she gently pulls it out, sending a burst of oozing blood from the hole. Lucifer relaxes, the pain is still there, but it's dull now. She reaches down and grabs the washcloth, prepared to wipe the blood away so she can stitch the wound. But, by the time she returns the hole is sealed. It’s as though there was no bullet there at all. She looks around, thinking maybe she’s lost the hole. Her confusion makes Lucifer smile.

  
“Wings are purely Celestial, Darling,” he says, “they heal fast, vulnerabilities be damned.” She cocks her head to the side.

  
“Yeah, why is It that you can bleed?” she asks, reaching for the pliers again,” I thought you were supposed to be immortal?”

  
“Yes, well,” he says, wincing from the pain of her pliers going for another bullet. His voice becomes strained as he fights through it,” It seems my time on earth has ..” he sharply exhales as she pulls out another bullet, “made me vulnerable to… _certain_ charms.” He couldn't tell her the truth yet, the full truth. He needed time to understand why it was the truth. Why did she make him vulnerable? Why was she immune to the beauty of his wings?

Chloe doesn't turn her eyes away from the hole this time, as the blood quickly dries and the hole closes. She gasps, her breathe momentarily taken away. She backs away from his wings before a smile comes over her face. She hadn’t even heard what Lucifer had said.   
She drops the bullet, with a plink, into a metal serving tray on the table, then goes in for another.

A half hour later, the tray is full of bloody bullets, and Chloe sets the pliers down. She steps back to look at the full glory of his healed wings. They are bright white now, not a drop of blood in site. They glow from a light that seems to come from within them.  
“I…,” she begins, “ I think we’re done.” Lucifer stands up and turns to her. He arches his back and extends his wings fully as if stretch them. He nods satisfactorily before they collapse and disappear.

“I believe are,” he says with a smile, the rosiness of his cheeks returned," Excellent work Detective."

  
“So, what now?” Chloe says, biting her bottom lip. He smiles and turns to his bedroom, his eyes landing on a clock nearby.

  
“The evening is still young, Detective,” he says, “but my body is weary. I’m afraid I must ask that I retire.”

  
She nods and agrees,” I’m still pretty tired too,” she says. She turns to the table; it is a complete mess.

  
“I’ll clean this up,” she says. He nods and smiles before heading towards the bathroom. His back is still stained with dry blood. She waits until the bathroom door closes then collapses onto the couch.

Her head spins. _Wings._ Literal wings. Her eyes fall onto the tray of bullets, and something about them catches her eyes. They don't look like normal bullets. She's worked homicide long enough to know what a bullet is supposed to look like, and these look ... different. She grabs the pliers and takes one, looking it over from up close. There are markings on it she can’t quite make out. She glances around and notices a glass on a side table with a little bourbon still inside. She dips the bullet in the bourbon, shakes it around a bit then pulls it out, now clean of blood. She pulls it up close to her again. There are distinct markings on it, things she's only seen on Maze’s blade. Her eyes squint, these _aren’t_ normal bullets.

She hears the shower head start and her attention is drawn to the bathroom door. Her mind wanders slightly, curious about what is on the other side of the door.

_Stop._

She turns back to the bullet. She knows if she tells Lucifer about these, he will dismiss them and keep whatever secrets he finds to himself. _Not this time_ , she thinks as she grabs the damp washcloth and drops a single bullet into the cloth. She looks around for a place to store it before eyeing her jacket, draped gently across the seat of the piano. She approaches her jacket, and gently slides the cloth into her pocket.

  
Satisfied, begins cleaning up the table. Once finished, she turns her attention to the bed. The blood from Lucifer's back has almost dried completely into the sheets. She quickly strips the bed, noting how the blood has seeped into the mattress but is dry to touch. She finds additional sheets inside Lucifer’s closet. By the time he exits the bathroom, still clad in - now clean - boxer briefs, the bed has been made. He looks at her as she straightens the pillow case on his side.

  
“Thank you, Detective,” he says, “though, I was more than happy to handle the sheets.”

  
She turns to him with a smile,” it’s okay.” She says, “plus, now we can go to sleep.”

  
His eyebrows rise, and he stares at her.

  
“What?” she asks.

  
“Detective, as much as I’d love to share a bed with you. I make it a distinct point of pride to not share a bed with a woman I will not know intimately.”

  
She looks at him with the look that he _really_ likes. The look that tells him that she thinks he is ridiculous and she won’t budge.

  
“I’m not leaving here,” Chloe says,” I’m too tired.”

  
He sighs, knowing he won’t win, even if he is the devil.

  
“Fine,” he relents. Chloe smiles and starts to get into bed.

  
“But,” he says, stopping her in her tracks,” I request you change into something different.”

  
“Why?” she asks,” what’s wrong with…” she looks down, her red silk pajamas are stained with blood.

  
“Oh,” she says.

  
Lucifer points to his closet, and she follows his command. He climbs into bed, into clean sheets and gets comfortable. His head hits the pillow, and he is swept up by the sensation of comfort, _finally_. His body is warm again and his wings are easy to forget now that they are healed. He hears shuffling in his closet, but it doesn’t bother him. He adjusts himself, taking care to get into a semi-comfortable position, so he doesn’t shift throughout the night. The last thing he would want is for the Detective to have a horrible nights sleep on his part.

  
Wait, was he actually considering sleeping in the same bed with her? _Without_ having sex? This bed has seen many things since he came to Los Angeles, but a pure sleep over was not it. How dare she push her way into his bed like this. I mean, he didn’t mind but …did she have to make it such a bad thing, the idea of them involved intimately? More shuffling comes from his closet. He sits up, annoyed.

  
“Detective, will you please just pick out a –“

  
Chloe emerges from the closet, donned in only a long sleeve dress shirt that falls just below her waist.

  
“Shirt.” He says, trailing off. He stares at her; the look humans normally give his wings, he was giving to Chloe.

  
She tugs shyly at the shirt, trying to make it longer.

  
“I couldn’t find any more pajama pants,” she says sadly.

  
“They must all be dirty,” he says, his eyes doing laps around her body, trying to remain calm. They lock eyes, then quickly avert them; both suddenly shy.

  
“Good Night, Detective,” he says, laying back down in his bed, focusing his eyes towards the wall. Chloe walks around the bed and slowly gets into bed, trying to keep the shirt from riding up. Too aware she isn’t wearing any underwear. They both lay silently for a moment, suddenly wide awake. Lucifer tries not to think about it, but he can’t. He can't not think about her legs, wrapped softly around his waist. He can't not think about her naked body, covered only by a thin sheet of fabric. He can't not think about her breasts, softly rising and falling with her breathe. He can't not think about what it might feel like, their skin trading warmth with one another or his hand slowly moving down her naked back. A heat wave flows over his body, and a familiar tingle starts to grow between his legs.

  
_Damn this sleepover_ , he thinks, tugging the sheet closer towards him. Hoping I will constrict…things.

  
“Lucifer?’ Chloe says, breaking the silence.

  
“Yes Detective?” he replies, a sudden croak in his throat.

  
“Can … can we cuddle?”

  
Lucifer scoffs.

  
“Detective, I do many things, but cuddle is not one of them.” He says, adjusting himself further.

  
“Please?” she says softly. He thinks about it momentarily, then sighs.

  
“Fine,” he says. Chloe begins to back closer to him, but he interjects, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to embrace me.”

  
Chloe rises her eyebrows.

  
“you want me to be the big spoon?” she asks, confused. The devil? A small spoon? No _fucking_ way.

  
“Yes, he confirms,” to…protect your modesty.”

  
Her ears flush red as she realizes what he is saying.

  
“I …” she begins, her tongue twisted and brain running a mile an hour of all the delightful things they could do right now. She shakes that out of her head.

  
“Okay,” she says. She scoots into him, cautiously. Her right arms slides beneath his, and she wraps it around his waist gently. Her head rests on his back, where his wings are. She inhales, taking in his scent. Her feet touch his, and intertwine; comfortable. She sighs and closes her eyes. His are still wide open, too much aware of all the points where their bodies meet; particularly her hand. He imagines the effort it will take if she moved just a few inches south. His eyes close, he has to push that out of his mind. He stares back at the wall, trying hard to focus on anything else. He stays that way for a moment, his body slowly relaxing between her arms.

  
By the time he is fully comfortable, he can hear and feel the softness of her breath on his back. She’s asleep again. He risks a hand falling onto hers to feel the warmth of her skin; soft. A small smile comes across his face. Then, that feeling in his chest again. _What is that?_ His eyes slowly close and soon, he too falls asleep.


	3. No rest for the wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer wake up together, but daily distractions leave them both feeling as though the other isn't as interested as they hope. Also, Maze hunts down a crossroads demon who informs Lucifer of a new impending problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! I'm trying to craft a big storyline dealing with the supernatural aspects and some of the details aren't sticking right.

Chloe slowly wakes up. Sunshine floods her vision, and she reaches up to momentarily shield her eyes. The room is blurry as she sits up. She is utterly exhausted still, and her body feels like it was run over by a truck, despite sleeping for so long. She reaches her arms out and stretches. At the foot of the bed, a figure stands silently watching her. She blinks her eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them.

“Lucifer?” she says, groggily. She feels a shift in the bed next to her and turns. Lucifer is still sleeping. Her heart nearly beats through her throat.

”Lucifer!” she screams, trying to push her self farther into the headboard.

Lucifer pops awake and sits up. He clears his eyes and stares at the figure before him. There, at the edge of his bed, a shirtless male with shaggy blonde hair and green and plaid pajama pants wait. His eyes, completely white, his face stoic and unmoving.

Lucifer looks at him, a look of recognition. Then back to Chloe, who has wrapped herself fearfully around his arm, daring to peek out at the man again.

“Detective,” he says smoothly, in a tone meant to soothe, “He won’t hurt you.”

She digs her face from behind her shoulder and turns to him. She can see every detail of him now; the white eyes and purple lips; fingers as if they’ve been clawing dirt. His pajama pants are tattered and caked with mud and twigs. He stands utterly still. If she didn’t know any better, she would say he was watching them.

“Who… who is he?” she asks. The man turns to her. She can’t see his eyes, but she can feel him watching her.

“You’ve heard the saying, ‘don’t kill the messenger,’ correct?”  The man now turns to Lucifer, seemingly following whichever voice is speaking.

She nods, not taking her eyes off him for one second.

“Well,” Lucifer says, reaching his arm out exuberantly, taking joy in Chloe’s education, “meet the messenger.”

Chloe’s eyes darts to Lucifer’s only momentarily before locking back onto the man at the edge of the bed.

“What does he want?” she asks, her eyes never leaving him. He turns back to her, watching her again. His face stays still; expressionless.

“I thought it was clear,” Lucifer says, “he’s here to deliver a message.”

“Like … a carrier pigeon?” she asks.

“Lucifer chuckles, "more like celestial voicemail, darling.”

Lucifer eyes flick to him, he watches; waiting. Part of him wants to excuse Chloe, but considering how … close they’ve become, he dares to have her witness.

“Speak,” Lucifer says, in a deep, demanding voice. The man’s face turns to Lucifer, his eyes not locked on, but _around_ him.

“The first of the third answers to the Shepard,” he says in a voice that comes from him, but also somewhere else. It is deep and vibrates Chloe’s ears. Lucifer casts his head upward, closing his eyes as if it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

“Again,” he says.

The voice repeats itself, “The first of the third answers to the Shepard.”

Lucifer nods, “That’s what I thought you said.” He says, standing up, casting the sheet off him. Lucifer lays a hand on the man’s shoulder and whispers gently into his ear.

“Go.”

Suddenly the man inhales a massive breath; it is raspy and deep. His chest expands, and his eyes unroll to reveal a deep emerald. There is confusion on his face, followed by shock and sadness. First, he sees Chloe, and confusion wipes over his eyes. Then he feels the hand on his shoulder and turns to see Lucifer; shock.

“Lucifer!” he says, as if not expecting to see him. He looks around again, understanding where he is. His shoulder slumps and solemnly he says, “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Lucifer turns, offering a charming smile to Chloe. He then turns the man around, walking him down the bedroom steps into the living room.

“I’m afraid you did Andrew. Where are we coming from this time? Hmmm?”

“Seattle,” he says quietly.

“Seattle? Well …,” he says, impressed, “as always we thank you for your service,” he says, turning Andrew to face the balcony.

Andrew turns back to him for a moment and says, pleadingly, “Wait ... Can you not drop me in a tree this time?”

Lucifer scoffs, “That was one time Andrew. Next time don’t show up on New Year's Morning if you don’t want an inebriated pilot,”  He says, knowing good and well the he can’t get drunk. _He did it on purpose_. Lucifer then suddenly spreads his wings, and in the blink of an eye, they are both gone. Chloe sits on the bed, an odd silence falling over the penthouse.

“Lucifer?” she asks, leaning forward in the bed, her eyes wandering the spot where he stood only second ago.

She waits and listens as if expecting an answer. She leans forward again, her hands on the edge of the bed and her eyes scanning what little she can see of the living room.

“Lucif-.”

Before she can finish saying his name, a breeze rolls through, and Lucifer’s feet land on the marble. His landing jog turns into a gentle strut as he calmly makes his way to the bar. He turns and sees the look of shock on Chloe’s face. He smiles that cheeky smile.

“I hadn’t expected to see you on all fours this early, Darling,” he says, charm dripping from his words, “but it is a sight I will accept willingly.”

Chloe sits up, placing her palms in her lap.

“Lucifer,” she says as if to suggest it was too early for his antics, “what the hell was that?”

Lucifer pours himself a drink.

“Hell?” he says, spinning the cap back onto the bottle, “hardly. Hell has nothing to do with the messengers.”

He turns to her. She has no idea what to say. He sees her confusion and takes it as an opportunity to continue her education.

 “Back when humanity was young, my father sent angels to … guide you.” Lucifer struts up the steps to his bedroom and gently sits on the corner of his bed.

“Those angels became … intimate with human women,” he says, his eyes tracing lines up Chloe’s folded legs as she tries to pull the ends of the shirt lower to no avail, “and were cast out of heaven for dishonoring their post. The children born from those unions became the first messengers; mortal bodies with a connection to the celestial. They could …hear and see things. So, we use them to transmit messages without a trip from heaven ... or, in my case ... hell.”

“So, that guy … Andrew? … he was ..” she begins to say, trying to put the pieces together.

“He comes from a long line of messengers, yes.”

“So, he just …what? Blacks out and ends up here,” Lucifer laughs at her lamens grasp of what he just said.

“More or less…”

  
“That seems … unfair,” she says, “he has a life to live.”

Lucifer’s eyes lower, he hadn’t considered Andrew’s feelings.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says.

“Can’t he say no?” Chloe says.

Lucifer sighs and stands up, “Unfortunately for him, Darling, his fate is one with little free will. It’s not all bad though, messengers are the one true untouchables. Not a demon in hell or an angel above would hurt a messenger. That don't kill bit isn't so much a suggestion as it is a warning.”

“So you don't harm them, maybe just drop them off in a tree,” she says, a look of disappointment in her eyes.

Lucifer sighs, upset that she is upset, “Very well detective, I’ll send him a … fruit basket or something.” He says, turning around and heading towards his closet.

“But I’ll have you know, Messengers live truly average lives until they are called upon.”

“So they aren’t always messengers?” she asks.

“No not at all,” he says, coming out of his closet wearing an unbuttoned shirt.

“Messengers are normal people, but when one dies another must be called. It could take thirty years, it could take eighty. It could skip an entire generation ...” he says, buttoning each button.

Chloe stops asking questions, her mind thinking about everything she’s known. Its like there is a whole new world other than what she has lived. Like her eyes have been opened for the first time in her life. Confusion strikes her face.

“So, what did he mean when he said…” she pauses, trying to remember what the message was. Just then, her phone beeps and a light begins to flash. She turns to it and picks it up off the side table.

It’s a message from Dan.

_We have a problem. Call me._

“Hold on, Lucifer,” she says, dialing Dan’s number.

“Hello?” Chloe says into the phone, her eyes mindlessly drifting to Lucifer’s crotch. He smiles and proudly stands as to give her a better view. Realizing where her eyes have landed, she raises a hand to him as if to say “not what I meant” and turns her head away. He sighs, “Suit yourself, Detective,” he says as he impatiently heads to his wardrobe. If she won't appreciate it, there is no point in remaining half nude.

\--

Dan sits on the couch in his apartment, reaching down to tie his shoes; his phone sandwiched between his neck and his shoulder.

“Was that Lucifer?” he says, a look of intrigue on his face.

“No,” Chloe says, almost as a knee jerk reaction, “I mean… yes, yes that was Lucifer.” She says, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes. Ready for the inquiry.

 “You slept over?” he says. She could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

“Yes ... we just slept,” she says, being defensive.

“Right,” He says as if he doesn’t believe her. _No one just sleeps with Lucifer_. There might be sleeping involved if the parade of women they brought into the station is any testament, but it's never _just_ sleeping.

“Listen,” he continues, the topic now turning to something more interesting,” I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What?” she says, her voice muffled against his neck.

“Daddy! Can we eat waffles for breakfast?” Trixie says, coming out of the back bedroom carrying a pink bookbag with a shirt arm hanging out of it.

He turns to her and smiles, “Did you remember to make your bed and pack your jammies?” he asks, “We’ll get waffles if you go make sure everything is ready okay?”

She runs back into the room, and Dan turns back to the phone.

\--

“What’s wrong?” Chloe says, stepping out of bed and heading for the bathroom,” I got your message.”

\--

“I took Trixie to the park yesterday, and she met a new friend there. Kyle and his dog Grotto.  Guess what Trixie has been bugging me about since.” He says, finally tying one and moving to the other shoe.

\--

“What?” Chloe says, rummaging through a pile of dirty clothing on the floor to find her pants. She sandwiches the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she slips one leg in.

\--

He turns around to make sure Trixie isn’t within hearing distance, before turning back and whispering into the phone, “A puppy.”

\--

“A puppy?” Chloe says, pulling the pants up to her waist and buttoning them before reaching down to zip.

“She’s not ready for a Puppy. I still have to remind her to brush her teeth before bed.”

Chloe grabs the rest of her clothes with one hand before heading out of the bathroom.

She bumps into Lucifer, who is buttoning the cuffs on his dress shirt. Her eyes look at him up and down. She wants to stop and take a deep, long look, but even now her mind is preoccupied. She walks around him, and he looks after her, a surprised and troubled look on his face. _Why is she not paying attention to me_ , he thinks, _she slept in my bed_ for devil’s sake.

\--

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Dan says, finally finished tying his shoe before allowing his hand to do the work his shoulder was doing. He stands up and peers into the bedroom to make sure Trixie isn’t listening.

“She won’t shut up about it Chloe, I’ve run out of topics to distract her. So … I just told her you’d make the final decision.”

\--

Chloe stops in the middle of Lucifer’s living room; she lowers her hand full of clothing and sighs.

“No, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Chloe!” he says from the other line. She rolls her eyes, and her head turns to see Lucifer silently tickling the keys of his piano.

“You always make me out to be the bad guy.”

“I’m sorry Chloe, I didn’t know what else to do,” he says.

\--

Trixie comes out the back bedroom, her backpack stuffed to the brim.

“You ready baby?” Dan says to her. She smiles and jumps, “Ready!”

Dan turns back to the phone, “We’re going to stop by Waffle palace for some breakfast first…”

Trixie screams, “Waffle palace!”

Dan chuckles, “You want anything?” he asks.

\--

Chloe looks at Lucifer, as he takes a sip of his bourbon. Yeah… she’s not getting any breakfast this morning.

“Yeah, the usual,” she says as she grabs her purse off the bar, “thanks.”

“Alright,” he says before hanging up.

Chloe stops and turns to Lucifer, who begins playing the piano.

“So what did he mean?” she says, not forgetting where they left off. Lucifer stops playing and turns halfway to Chloe. He thinks for a moment.

“Honestly Darling,” he says, “I’ve yet to figure that part out.”

“Well I have to get home before Dan and Trixie, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

He nods and smiles. She reaches to grabs her jacket off the piano seat next to him, and he turns to her; their faces mere inches from one another.

Their eyes lock. She can smell him, even through the bourbon and morning breathe. Its intoxicating and she can’t get enough of. Her pulse quickens as their eyes dance back and forth.

_Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me_. Her brain thinks over and over again.

“Goodbye Detective,” he says before turning back to the piano. She closes her eyes and turns to the elevator. _Stupid_ , she thinks, _how could she be so stupid?_

_\--_

Lucifer watches as the elevator doors close behind him. He tries to put it out his mind, but how could he? He always gets what he wants.

At the slightest snap, he could have every woman in Los Angeles clawing at his pants, ready to lay their mouth on just an inch of him. How could she not have felt it? That voice in the back of his head telling her to stay. He couldn’t charm her, and the whole free will thing meant he couldn’t force her.  He _wouldn't_ force her. He never forces anyone, but if he did ... _never_ her.  She’d have to want to stay, and it seems… she didn’t want to.

He pulls his hands up to his chest, that dull, overarching ache growing. He starts playing the piano, letting his thoughts wander just as much as his fingers.

It wasn’t like him to let a woman take the lead, but she had ignored every advance he made. Did she even feel anything for him? Were the kisses and shy glances just momentary things? Weaknesses in an otherwise flawless armor? She was worth it, but… what even were they?

He looks up into an empty penthouse. His eyes narrow and he stops playing the piano. He stands and slowly faces the balcony as if expecting something. But nothing happens — just stillness.

 “The first of the third answers to the Shepard,” he says to himself. His mind trying hard to unravel a knot growing deep in his stomach.

\--

Chloe steps into her house, keys jingling inside her mouth and a cup of coffee in her hand. She closes the door behind her with her foot, slamming it.

Gently, sets her stuff down on the table by the door.

The slamming door wakes up Maze, who for some reason is sleeping on the couch. She sits up, her makeup messy and her hair even worst. Chloe pauses, frightened and looks at her; they lock eyes. Once she realizes it’s Maze, she relaxes and lets out a giant sigh of relief.

“What are you doing down here?” she asks.

Maze stretches and smacks her lips as though she tastes something awful.

“Well I _was_ sleeping,” she says, reaching for a bottle of beer on the coffee table, only to find out it is empty, “What are you doing home so late?”

Chloe’s cheeks flush red, and she turns to walk into the kitchen.

Maze smiles a knowing smile.

“Look’s like someone is doing the walk of shame.”

 “That didn’t happen,” she says, opening the cabinet by the fridge. She pulls out a granola bar. Dan was bringing her breakfast, but she couldn’t wait.

“Hey Chloe,” Maze says, leaning onto the back of the couch. Chloe doesn’t answer, she ignores her and begins to unwrap her granola bad.

“Chloe,” Maze continues, pestering her, “Hey Chloe!”

“What?” she says, finally turning around and daring to meet Maze’s eyes again.

“Was it shameful?” Maze says, licking her lips with a pleasing squeal.

Chloe can’t help but bust out a smile, “That’s not what happened!” she says grabbing the granola bar and her coffee. She walks over to the living room and sits in a chair.

“I’ll have you know that Lucifer was a gentleman last night,” she says, very pleased with herself.

“Oh, honey,” she says slumped down in the couch, ”He lets everyone come first, not just you ...”

“What? No! Listen, we didn’t have sex,” she said.

“What do you mean you didn’t have sex?” Maze asks as if Chloe had just told her the sky was purple.

She shrugs and sips on her coffee,” we just slept.”

“You just slept?” Maze asks her, in disbelief as if saying the words out loud would make them make sense. Nope, still the _dumbest fucking thing_ she’s ever heard.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, setting her feet on the ground and leaning closer to Chloe.

“You slept in the same bed with Lucifer, all night long, and didn’t have sex.”

Chloe nods, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Maze sits back and stares off. Her face twisted in confusion and anger. She turns back to Chloe quickly.

“Did he show you his wings?” she asked, trying to find where he went wrong.

“Yes, he did,” she says, remembering the bullet in her jacket.

“and you still didn’t have sex with him?”

“No!” she says, her hands dropping to the side as if to suggest she has nothing to hide.

Maze sits back, her legs spread and her face solid like she’s finally figured it out.

“There’s something wrong with you Decker.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and sets her coffee on the table. From the way he acted this morning, maybe sex is all he is interested in? 

‘So, nothing?” Maze says, still unable to wrap her mind around it.

“We had a lot to discuss,” she says, dropping her tone and becoming more serious,” and I don’t … I don’t think Lucifer feels that way about me.”

Maze scoffs.

“Get the fuck outta here Decker,” she says a look of annoyance on her face. Chloe is the reason she doesn't live at Lux anymore. Maze wishes she could catch Lucifer's attention as Chloe has.

“I’m serious,” she says, thinking back to how her body practically begged him to kiss her this morning. Maze can hear the hurt in her voice.

“I don’t think he knows what he feels ... to be fair. But whatever it is …” she says trailing off, staring at her coffee before taking a sip.

Maze rolls her eyes backward and tilts her head. _Okay_ , she says to herself, do the human thing. The thing Linda says that humans like.

“What about you?” Maze says, sitting upright and staring into her eyes like she’s paying attention. “What do _you_ feel?”

Chloe has to think about that. She wants to say she loves him. She wants to shout it from the rooftop and let every painful pang of heartbreak drip from her lips until there is nothing left but silence and emptiness. But she doesn’t. The truth is, she doesn’t _really_ know how she feels. One day he is confessing to her on the balcony, saying her name softly and sweetly. The next he is running off to Vegas to marry some stripper he just met. Then, probably even more hurtful, he ignores her and coldly brushes her off after spending a wonderful night together. He’s a hard man to pin down, devil or not. The way she feels for Lucifer is …

“It’s complicated,” she says finally.

Maze sighs, standing up, suddenly bored with this whole conversation.

“Sounds like you need to talk to Linda.” Maze says, stretching her body fully now, every bone and tendon cracking beneath the pressure. “Just make sure you tell her I tried that ‘how does it make you feel’ thing and I got nothing.”

Maybe visiting Linda wasn’t such a bad idea, Chloe thinks. After all, there was a lot to digest. Between Lucifer actually being the devil, the whole Cain thing and the… wings. Right. Almost forgot.

“I have something I want to show you,” Chloe says, standing up and going to her jacket.

Chloe returns with the balled-up cloth and sets it on the coffee table.

“What does this look like to you?” she says, unfolding the cloth to reveal the bullet. Maze glances at it briefly, then her eyes lock onto something familiar about them, daring her to look away. She leans in closer and picks up the bullet. Her expression fades into a seriousness. It's a look Chloe has only seen when she’s gone bounty hunting.

“Where did you get this?” Maze asks.

“I pulled it out of Lucifer’s wings.”

Maze looks back at the bullet fragment, her jaw clenching and pulsing.

“Do you recognize it?” Chloe asks, already knowing the answer but needing confirmation, “I thought it looked like one of your knives.”

Maze nods, “It’s a demon blade. Or what is left of one.”

“Is it one of yours?”

Maze shakes her head,” Mine are all accounted for. Has to be someone else’s.” She places the bullet back into the rag and folds it up.

“Every demon has their own blade. A demon without a blade is ... well, probably dead at this point.”

She watches the look on Maze’s face as she shoves the rag into her pants pocket before reaching down to tie up her shoes.

“This is bad, “Chloe says, “isn’t it.”

Maze glances up at her, Chloe notices a look of concern in her eyes.

“Demon blades can kill anything. Mortal or immortal.”

“So, these bullets…they could really harm Lucifer?” she asks, as Maze switches to the other foot.

“Not just harm. Blades don’t just kill Chloe; they completely wipe whatever dies out of existence. No heaven, no hell. Nothing.”

“So, it really was a trap,” Chloe says, putting two and two together,” It was a trap for Lucifer.”

Maze stands up and adjusts her pants before reaching down and grabbing her jacket off the back of the couch.

“I can’t believe I fucked that guy,” Chloe said, suddenly angry with herself. Maze chuckles.

“Can you figure out whose blade this came from?” Chloe asks.

“Way ahead of you Decker," she says as she heads for the door.

Chloe sits back down, grabbing her coffee off the table.

“For what it’s worth,” Maze says, opening the door, “I think you underestimate what he would do for you.”

She shuts it behind her with a thud and Chloe is alone again. She sighs.

“I hope so,” she says in reply, but the reply only fades into silence.

She takes a sip of her coffee and watches the reflection of light from the window dance on her ceiling.

Suddenly the door burst open and Trixie runs in.

“Hey Mommy!” she says, running straight into her bedroom. Chloe sits up and sees Dan walking into the house with a tray of food.

“Hey Monkey!” she says, as she approaches Dan, “ Did you enjoy spending time with Daddy?”

“Uh huh” she replies from her bedroom.

Chloe hugs Dan with one hand and takes the food with another.

“This isn’t a bribe, is it?” she asks, a look on her face as if to suggest he is in hot water.

“I’m sorry Chloe,” he says, “I didn’t know what else to do!”

She opens the tray and sets it on the counter. Scrambled eggs and toast. When was the last time she ate?

“So, you and Lucifer?” Dan says, a smile on his face. Chloe rolls her eyes.

“There is no me and Lucifer,” she says, a tone of disappointment in her voice. Dan catches it and his smile turns into concern.

“Do you want there to be?” he asks. She starts to respond, but stops short. Does she? She absolutely loves him, even now, probably especially now. But … monogomy and the devil? Would she always have to hold his hand emotionally? Is he even interested in something more than just physical?

“Mommy?” Trixie says, sweetly coming out of her bedroom. They turn to her, she has that look on her face like she wants something and will be really, really nice if she can get it.

Chloe eyes Dan.

“Yes Monkey?” she asks.

“Can we get a puppy?”

Dan recoils and heads towards the door, “Sorry to go Chloe I uhm…I have a thing I just remembered.”

She cuts daggers to him, “Uh huh, I’m sure you do,” she says as she comes around the counter and kneels down to Trixie. The door shuts behind Dan.

“Baby,” she says sweetly, placing her hands on Trixie’s shoulders, then sliding them down until she is holding both of her hands, “how about we start off with something small? Like maybe...a fish?”

\--

Dan shuts the door behind him and exhales. He hates to leave Chloe in the hot seat like that but is so happy he doesn’t have to make that decision. He begins to walk to his car when a wind suddenly picks up. It sounds like it is carrying his name.

“Daniel,” it whispers. He stops and looks around. He turns to make sure he closed to door behind him. It is closed.

He shakes his head, a look of confusion, then rubs his ears a vigorously. Clearly, he is hearing things.

\--

Later in the evening and Lucifer sits in a VIP area in the middle of a packed LUX. A woman, adorned in gold jewelry and wearing a thin red dress comes up to him. She sits down next to him, draping her leg over his. She licks his earlobe.

“I hope you have time for me tonight,” she says in a sultry voice. He looks at her, bored by the prospect of her, and sips the drink in his hand. She reaches up and turns his face to hers.

“Playing hard to get tonight?” she asks, almost in a cooing voice. His attention turns across the club to a figure, standing out from the other writhing bodies; it’s Maze. She catches eyes with him and then disappears in the direction of his penthouse.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” he says standing up, “I’m afraid I’ve made previous engagements.”

She smiles at him,” Another time then?” she asks. He doesn’t answer as he stares forward and heads to his penthouse.

\--

The elevator doors open and he steps into his living room. Maze stands there, a serious look on her face. By her feet is what appears to be a homeless man bound at the wrists and gagged.

“We have a problem,” she says as she reaches down to bring the man to his feet.

“Does it include having to burn that rug?” he says, turning to the bar and pouring yet another drink, “I could smell him from downstairs.”

Maze rips the ill-placed duct tape off the man’s mouth. He screams as it comes off.

“Tell him what you told me,” she says.

“I sold the knives,” he said out loud,” now please, let me go.”

“To who?” Maze says, wanting him to get the full story out.

“I .. I don’t know, some cop guy. He said the knives were important, but I couldn’t just let them go for free,” he says.

Lucifer turns to him and slowly approaches. This was the man who indirectly put him and the Detective in the line of fire? The man who forced Lucifer to show his true self? The man who is the reason why Chloe hasn’t called him all day? He approaches, the fire already starting to light in his eyes.

 “Where did you get them?” Lucifer says.

“I… I traded them,” he says, sounding like he’s holding some information pack.

“What did you trade them for?” Lucifer calmly follows.

“Please, just let me go. I’ve told you what I know.”

In an instant, Lucifer’s hands are around his neck. He is gripping tightly, closing off words from his throat. The man chokes and wiggles beneath his strong grip. Maze steps back and watches, excitement in her eyes.

“What did you trade them for?” he asks, a growl in his voice.

“Favors… favors down the road. You know demons, always tit for tat.”

Lucifer lets go of his grip, dropping the man to his feet. A crossroads demon? Lucifer recoils in disgust. They were the worst lot.

“Why would you make a trade for blades?” Maze chimes in, “Aren’t souls your normal thing?”

The man calms now; he stands up straight, a certain smugness in his words.

“You think crossroads is fun? I hate it. Always the same thing, trading their soul for fame or fortune. No, I want to go back home, but … I don’t have blades. Haven’t for centuries.”

“If you wanted to go back so badly, why trade your only ticket for money,” Lucifer said.

“He made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Lucifer scoffs. Like he said, crossroad demons were the worst. They spend their nights trading favors for souls and wasted the rest on drugs, money and women. The thought crosses his mind that they shared things in common, but no… he was better than that. He was never interested in drugs, just liquor. And money wasn’t a factor. The women though, that might be his only vice…except for recently. His mind crosses back to Chloe. His eyes roam up and catch a reflection of himself in the bar mirror. _Right_ , he thinks.

“Well,” he says, straighten up and turning to the man, pleased with himself, “now you’re back to square one. So nothing for you has actually changed, has it?” It’s as if it were the man’s punishment to see it all go to waste.

The man’s eyes become shifty. Lucifer doesn’t notice but Maze does.

“You got new blades, didn’t you?” she says, recognizing that look. Lucifer looks at him and their eyes lock. The man tries to run again but before he knows it, Lucifer is on him. His wings spread large and glorious. The man’s eyes widen. He realizes who he is talking to and the level of fear in his eyes and voice is palpable.

“What did you trade for your new blades?” he asks. The man stutters, trying hard to work past his fear.

“I … I….,” he begins, staring into the flames in Lucifer’s eyes. He can feel Lucifer pulling the words out,” I traded them for safe passage,” he said.

“I turned a blind eye to the door and let a soul come through,” he continued Lucifer’s eyes widen.

“A soul?” he says confused.

The man nods quickly, his feet still dangling off the ground. Lucifer lowers him at the same time his wings loser. His head spins, the thoughts coming through his mind all at once.

Maze shakes her head. “No,” she says, “demons don’t have souls. If they traded their blades for safe passage, they don’t have souls…” she said.

“I know what I saw!” he says.

“Well then you saw wrong!” she says.

“Listen Lady, I –“

“Lady?” Maze says, offended. She takes out her dagger.

“Enough!” Lucifer roars in a guttural voice. He needs to think. He can’t think with these two going at it. _Think_ , Lucifer, _think_! Lucifer’s eyes turn and stare at nothingness. His mind reeling.

Lucifer turns back to watch the man. He is missing something, but he can’t see what it is. He nods to Maze before turning back to the bar and pouring another drink.

Maze pulls a blade out from her pocket. The man sees it and screams, thinking this is the end. She instead surprises him by cutting the rope around his wrists. He takes this as a queue and runs to the elevator.

It closes behind him.

Maze approaches the bar.

“Why would someone break a soul out of hell like that?” she asks.

Lucifer shakes his head,” I don’t know, but a soul, demon or not, on the loose is not good. It’s only a matter to time.”

“Matter of time before what?” she asks. He looks to her, a look that sends chills up her spine.

“Until we figure out why they wanted to break out so badly,” he says.

\--

Chloe stands in her kitchen, packing a lunch for Trixie. It is peaceful, the sound of the television droning on in the background. She smiles to herself as she folds a napkin to place inside the lunch pale.

She then closes the lunch pale and puts it in the fridge. She walks around the kitchen and turns off the light, leaving the only source of illumination the dim light from the tv. She walks to Trixie’s bed, to see her tucked in and already fast asleep. She smiles, her arms folded, and watches Trixie momentarily. She then gently and silently closes the bedroom door.

She walks over to the tv and flicks a switch on its side, plunging the living room into darkness. She wraps her sweater tighter around her and approaches the steps. She pauses and takes one last look around before ascending to her bedroom.

There, she shuts the door behind her, and all is quiet. She takes off her sweater and climbs into bed, getting beneath the covers.

She sighs, letting her body fall into her mattress. Lucifer’s bed had been comfortable, but there was nothing like her bed. She turns onto her side, her mind thinking of Lucifer again.

 

With him it was complicated, but everything seemed perfect when she had wrapped her arms around his body. And that look he gave her, as though she was the most beautiful thing he had seen. Chloe was exhausted, not only by the events of the last few days but this whole cat and mouse chase. He had already hurt her before, would she allow him to do that again?

What was going on between her and Lucifer? When she hadn’t known who he was, there was this wall between them. Now that wall was gone, and she had expected… what had she expected? Maybe if she wanted answers, she’d have to ask. Lucifer never willingly had a heart to heart, so … maybe it was up to her to start it. She sighs, getting comfortable in bed, resolved to figuring it out in the morning. Her eyes close, and her brain starts to slow, until suddenly, she's asleep.

\--

Chloe sits at her desk biting a pencil as she sifts through paperwork. Ella approaches in her usual bubbly manner.

“I’m here! I’m here,” she says, “I got caught up talking to Lincoln from evidence. He is such a chatterbox. I think he likes me.”

Chloe looks at the time, “Ella it’s almost eleven. I’m just going to wait and eat on my lunch break.”

“No!,” she cries, “Please! I had to yell at an old lady to get this,” She says. Chloe smiles and sits back in her chair.

“Okay,” she says.

Ella perks up.

“Okay, so they ran out of lemon bars,” she starts, seeing Chloe suddenly losing interest,” but … I got you something I think you’ll enjoy.”

Chloe takes the bag from her, and slowly opens it. She peers inside with a look of confusion, then slight amusement.

“A bag of semen samples,” she says, as if opening a white elephant gift she were pretending to like. Ella confused takes the bag and looks at it. A look of realization comes over her.

“Oh No,” Ella says, trying to figure out where she left the breakfast muffin.

Just then, Dan comes around the corner carrying a similar brown paper bag. He turns and see’s the look on Ella's face before approaching her and grabbing the bag out of her hands.

He opens it and peeks inside of it, then slams the bag he was carrying into her chest. He gives her a look as if to suggest she stepped in it, then turns and goes back around the corner.

Chloe watches, her eyes raised at the exchange. Ella turns to her, a forced smile on her face. Before she can say anything, Chloe waves her hand.

“I think I’m going to skip breakfast this morning,” she says.

Ella nods, “yeah,” she says walking to her lab. She doesn’t blame Chloe.

Chloe turns back to her paperwork. Out the corner of her eye, she catches an officer spilling coffee on himself. She turns back to her desk and begins to scroll through documents. Dan comes back around the corner, huffing, and walks towards his desk. Halfway there he trips over nothing and catches himself on the edge of his desk.

“Are you okay?” she asks concerned.

“Yeah,” Dan says sitting down. There is an air about him that seems chaotic. Behind her, two officers collide, sending stacks of paperwork in the air. They exchange heated words before being pulled away by two detectives.

Chloe turns back to Dan, who is frantically typing at his keyboard. She stands up and walks over to his desk.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” she asks, turning back to view bystanders as they begin picking up the paper files.

“Yeah, why?” Dan asks. She continues to watch them; there is no rhyme or reason for how they are stacking papers. It's like they don't even care about the information.

“I don’t know, “she says, “does something about today feel ….off to you?” she asks. She turns around to see Dan staring directly at her. Except it isn’t Dan. It has Dan’s face, but it’s eyes… its eyes are completely blacked out — a crooked smile across his lips.

“You tell me. Does it feel wrong? ... Chloe?” the way he says her name sticks to her skin like damp sheets.

She backs up, trying to catch her breath. That’s when she feels like she’s being watched. She turns to see every other officer in the station staring at her. Their eyes blacked over, crooked smiles adorning their faces. She backs up, bumping into her desk and knocking her nameplate onto the ground. It shatters on the floor.

\--

Her alarm clock blares and Chloe sits straight up in bed, gasping for breath.  She turns to the clock. It reads 7:30 a.m. She catches her breathe from the dream and wipes a sweat bead off her brow. She tosses the covers off her and sets her feet on the ground. As she slowly wakes up, her head turns, and she sees a wet spot beneath where her legs were. Her eyes turn to curiosity, and she lifts the sheets more. Then her eyes widen and she stands up; tossing the sheets off her bed to reveal her sheets are completely soaked through in sweat.

 


	4. Lock and Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe head back to the station to find things are a little different. Chloe's nightmares continue. Dan starts to see things and Amenadiel gets wind there is a problem in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! I had to craft the story and work has been hectic in the new year. I think I worked out the big kink in the story so other chapters should flow smoother now. Sorry, this one's a little slow still, but I'm setting up some heavy stuff down the road.Thanks for your patience!

  
Lucifer, dressed in his usual dress pants and a buttoned-down shirt, enters his living room; grabbing and finishing the drink on the bar. He heads towards the elevator, ready to go to the station. As he reaches for his jacket, draped neatly at the end of the bar, he stops in his tracks. His ears move back, as if listening for something, then a coy smile travels across his face.

  
“Brother,” he says, turning to his balcony to see Amenadiel standing tall, lowering his wings as if he's just landed.

  
“Back so soon? How’s father?”

  
Amenadiel smiles and walks casually further into the living room.

  
“As knowing as one could expect,” he says, enjoying the banter. He had almost …  _almost_ missed it.

  
“Of course,” Lucifer stands, placing his hands in his pocket. Lucifer’s eyebrows arch, and he tilts his head.

  
“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t just a cordial visit,” he says, “are we back to attempting to carry me home?”

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “Far from it Luci,” he says, his face strong and stoic,” I’ve actually been back since last night. If I were here to return you, I would have paid you a visit then.”

  
Lucifer nods and smiles, “Well then, in that case. Welcome back, I’m sure we will have plenty of time to catch up.” He says, going back to the bar and reaching for his jacket.

  
“Andrew visited me this morning,” he said.

  
Lucifer stops and doesn’t turn around.

  
“Care to guess what the message was this time?” Amenadiel asks, stepping forward to the bar.

  
Lucifer looks at him in the mirror of the bar. He reaches for his jacket and slowly puts it on.

  
“I imagine it was of some importance if a messenger was sent,” he says, that smart look on his face like he is proud of his stubbornness.

  
“Did you know?...” Amenadiel says moving forward, already knowing the answer, “ Did you know that someone escaped?”

  
Lucifer scoffs, “Of course I knew. Andrew visited me before he visited you,” he says, straightening his jacket so that it looks clean and smooth in the mirror.

  
“Then how will we handle this?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer smiles,” We will do nothing.” He says, walking to his elevator.

  
“Luci, you can’t be serious. We can’t have an escaped soul walking freely on earth.”

  
“Brother,” Lucifer says in a tone that implies he should calm down, “This is Los Angeles. The town is rife with unstable humans. Whoever has escaped will pop up soon, and when they do, I assure you they will be dealt with.”

  
Lucifer presses the button to his elevator; the doors ding open.

  
“Until then,” he says, stepping into the elevator and facing Amenadiel,” Relax. Have a drink, yeah?”

  
The doors close and Amenadiel is left alone in the penthouse. He sighs, but the time he has spent on earth has taught him how to deal with Lucifer. If Lucifer won’t look, he will have to. But where should he start?

  
\--

  
Daniel sits at his desk, searching the police database for a suspect. He seems in a deep state of concentration, so deep that he doesn’t even notice Ella approaching his desk. When he finally is aware of his surroundings, he looks up to see Ella standing there and staring at him like she wants to hug him.

  
He looks at her, trying to think if he forgot to give her some evidence or something.

  
“Did I … forget something??” he asks finally, not coming up with a real reason she might be standing by his desk.

  
“I just want you to know,” Ella says, reaching her hand out to rest it on his shoulder, “I’m here for you buddy.”

  
Dan squints his eyes. Charlotte's death was still fresh on his mind, in fact, it was all he could think about. If it weren’t for Trixie, he would have wallowed in his own filth all weekend. Now, work was the only thing that kept his mind off the emptiness in his heart. He had finally opened up to another woman since Chloe and …

  
He shut himself off from finishing that thought.

  
“Thank you,” he says to Ella,” But I’m okay.”

  
“You keep telling yourself that Dan,” she says positively, “it’s all about frame of mind, right?!”

  
“Right,” Dan says, happy to get back to his work. He starts to type on his screen but notices Ella isn’t moving. He turns back to her.

  
“Anything else?”

  
“Actually,” she says, “I’m sorry to bother you but … I never got any evidence bags from … “

  
She didn’t have to finish her sentence for him to understand what she meant. The evidence room was under lock and key, and only officers could remove evidence from the lockers. They had been working on Charlotte’s death before everything hit the fan so quickly, there hadn’t been time to go over any of the evidence.

  
Dan slumps back in his chair realizing what he has to do.

  
“Right,” he says, standing up.

  
“I can wait for Chloe to get here if its-“

  
“No,” he says interrupting her, “it’s fine. I’ll go get it.”

  
He walks down the hallway and opens the door to the evidence room. He steps in and greets Malcolm, the officer in charge of checking evidence in and out.  
He nods a welcome to him.

  
“I uh,” he says, stepping forward,” I need everything you have on the Charlotte Richards … murder,” he says, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter on that last word.

  
Malcolm nods and disappears behind rows and rows of boxes marked evidence. Dan lets go a sigh and turns his back to face the door; staring out the glass in the door to see people milling about in the hallway. His eyes drift up towards an exceptionally loud ticking clock. The time reads 9:13 a.m.

  
“Hey,” Dan says turning to an empty counter behind him, “I’m going to go take a leak, I’ll be back.” He says.

  
“Alright,” Malcolm responds, still searching for a name.

  
Daniel exits the evidence room and immediately turns down the hallway to go into the men’s room. He enters, and it is empty. Picking a urinal, he unzips and begins to empty his bladder.

  
“Daniel,” the sudden and impossible wind whispers in his ear.

It resonates and vibrates his head. He turns, trying to figure out who would be whispering to him in the bathroom. Yet, all urinals are empty and the stalls doors are visibly open. There is no one there.  
“Hello?” he says, his voice echoing into silence. Confused, but now on edge, he turns back to finish the job. Suddenly wanting to hurry this process up.

  
“Daniel!” the voice says, this time with urgency. It almost echoes into itself as if multiple voices are speaking to him all at once. His zips himself up and spins around, ready to face whoever is messing with him.

  
But then his breath suddenly caught in his lungs. His eyes turn to the corner of the restroom, and he almost chokes on his spit.  
There, standing in the corner is Charlotte. Or, what appears to be her. Her skin is soft and pink, but there is something ethereal about her. He knows that she isn’t real, but … she’s standing right in front of him.

  
A look of recognition falls over her eyes and a soft smile. She reaches out, almost begging for him to come closer and touch her. His body is overcome with a sense of warmth and peace as if she is telling him that she is alright. Yet, there is something more there in her eyes. She beckons to him, wanting him to come closer. His feet, seemingly of their own accord, slowly move to her. She smiles at him, a smile he hadn’t known he missed so much until now.

  
Suddenly the door opens, and an officer walks in to use the Urinal. He pauses as Dan turns to him, his face pale but calm.

  
“You okay man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He says

  
Dan turns back to the corner where he saw Charlotte. There is nothing there, but something about her absence leaves a bottomless feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
He gathers his composure and turns back to the man.

  
“Yeah, I just … must have been something I ate.” He says.

  
He heads out, his head spinning with what the hell just happened. He passes the evidence room, and Malcolm sees him.

  
“Hey! Detective Espinosa!” he says. Dan nods, _right … I almost forgot again._

  
“Sorry about that,” he says, “Just…got lost I guess.” He says as he approaches the counter.

  
Malcolm pushes a clipboard further to him, and Dan signs his name. Malcolm hands him a box with Charlotte’s name on it. He looks at it momentarily, his eyes running over her name as if it were his fingers rolling over her skin. He takes the box and tosses a smile to Malcolm before leaving.

  
\--

  
Dan enters Ella’s lab with the box in tow. She is busy dancing to music in her earphones while isolating DNA samples. He sets the box down on her table, and she jumps.

  
“Oh!” she says, “pulling the earbuds out her ears,” I was about to send out a search crew,” she says jokingly.

  
Dan sends her a soft smile, “Funny Ella.”

  
She reaches down onto the table to turn her phone back on, pressing play on her music. Dan’s eyes mindlessly follow her hand movements. Then he straightens up.

  
“Is that time on your phone correct?” he asks.

  
She smiles at him, removing the earbuds from her ear.

  
“What did you say?” she asks.

  
“The time, on your phone…is that right?”

  
She looks down at her phone, the time reads 10:23 a.m.

  
“Yeah,” she says, “It syncs up with the internet. Never wrong!” She places the earbud back in her ear and continues to dance.

  
Dan backs up, nearly stumbling into the door on the way out of the lab. He makes it to his desk and looks at the time on his computer. 10:24a.m.

  
How is that possible? He thinks. A thought occurs to him, and he stands up, missing Chloe entering the station. He walks directly into the evidence room and looks at the clock. It also reads 10:24 a.m.  
Malcolm hears movement up front and comes to the front desk to see Dan. His eyes are wide like a deer in headlights.

  
“You need anything else?” he asks.

  
Dan turns to him.

  
“How …” he says, trying to form his sentences while looking at the clock.

  
He clears his throat to compose himself, understanding how crazy he looks in that moment.

  
“How long,” he begins, “would you say you waited for me to come back from the toilets?” he asks.

Malcolm shrugs, “I don’t know …about an hour?”

  
Dan’s blood runs cold. How did he lose an hour of his life?

\--

Chloe enters the station, struggling to straighten the collar on her jacket. She tries to pretend like she doesn’t see the looks officers are throwing her way. They are clear looks of pity, but after her dream last night, she’d rather not engage. It just felt so… _real_.

She sees Dan at his desk and begins to approach him, but before she can, he leaves his desk in a hurry. Everyone is busy, she thinks. After so much has happened over the last few days … between Charlotte’s death, Peirce being the sinnerman and setting a trap for her and Lucifer … it only made sense that everyone wanted to be on their best. After all, if they hadn’t replaced Peirce by now, they would soon.

  
She reaches her desk and sets her phone down. Her eyes dart to all her labeled folders, or rather her lack of folders. Her desk has been seemingly wiped clear of any paperwork. She furls her eyebrow in confusion.

  
“Decker I presume?” a voice from behind her chimes in.

She turns around to see an average height man with shoulder-length brown hair in a simple shirt and tie combination. His hair is effortlessly curly and seems to be speckled with strands of gold. His hair is radiant, like the kind seen in Renaissance paintings. For a second, she is caught off guard. He was young, maybe a little too young to be a Lieutenant. But his age was deceiving, as behind that smile there was a demand of respect and an air of a millennium of knowledge. He leans unevenly on a dark wooden cane.

  
“Chloe, meet our interim Lieutenant,” Ella says, catching Chloe and the new Lieutenant talking.

  
“Lieutenant Adams,” he says reaching out a hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

  
She shakes his hand slowly, eyeing him with confusion. She has a sense about him as if they’ve met before.

  
“But, you’re so young,” she states, almost as a question.

  
He laughs and shakes his head.

  
“I get that a lot actually. I look much younger than I actually am … must be good genes,” he says, a warm smile stretching across his face.

  
She shakes her head to knock herself out of it — he chuckles.

  
“Don’t worry I get it all the time.”

  
They smile at one another. His words should be taken at face value, but ..she can’t shake the feeling screaming at her from within.

  
“I’m sorry, have we met before?” she asks.

  
“I don’t believe so, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m excited I will finally get a chance to see your work up close.” He smiles. It is an uneasy smile. The kind of smile that Chloe knows there is something to be read behind it.

  
She looks back at her empty desk. He follows her line of sight.

  
“Your assignments have been … redistributed,” he says. He walks away, using the cane to support what appears to be a weak right leg. He walks towards his office, a look in his eyes suggest that Chloe should follow.

  
Ella appears beside her, “A real dreamboat huh? If only it didn’t feel like robbing the cradle.”

  
Chloe gives her a look, and Ella backs off.

  
“What? Is this about Lucifer? Use it or lose it, girl.”

  
“Ella!” Chloe responds as she begins to walk towards the lieutenant’s office, “not everything is about Lucifer.”

  
Ella stares back at her. There is something off about her and Dan today, she thinks. Grief does strange things.

  
\---

  
The door to the Lieutenants office closes, and Chloe stands before lieutenant Adams’ desk. He sits down, brushing aside his long flowing hair with his hand. An officer knocks on the door, and Lieutenant Adams gestures him in. He hands a file to the Lieutenant and says, “the incident report you requested, sir.”

  
“So what can I do for you Decker?” he says, opening the file to briefly look at it before closing. Chloe notices a photo of Peirce, cold and unmoving laying on a cold marble floor. Overlaying that image is another image, a bloody feather.

  
Chloe puts two and two together, “wait. I thought the department wasn’t investigating Peirce’s death.”

  
Lieutenant Adams looks up at her, a look in his eyes saying she is overstepping some boundaries.

  
“Do you know of any reason why I shouldn’t be investigating your last Lieutenants death, Detective?” he asks, looking into her eyes.

  
Chloe knows that look. He is suspicious of her.

  
“Lieutenant, with all due respect. The events of that afternoon are exceptionally clear. I don’t think we left any question unanswered.”

  
“Detective,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “with all due respect … maybe you are too close to the situation to be asking the right questions.”

  
“I think I’ve learned how to be objective in my position,” she says, stepping forward as if to challenge him.

  
“This isn’t about your objectivity,” he says, standing – putting a large portion of weight onto his cane. Once upright, he walks around to the front of his desk. He leans on it and crosses his arms.

  
“I was told you and Peirce were … engaged?” he says. Chloe’s eyes change, she is angry at the implication, but understands. She averts her eyes, fearful she would say something to end her job. Perhaps kick the cane from right under him.  
He takes her silence an answer and nods.

  
“I don’t want to give anyone any more ammo to think that we aren’t taking this seriously,” he says, “If that means we go on a pointless investigation, so be it. Feel free to tell me I told you so when this is over, and I don’t come up with a single lead. Until then I think this department is owed a fair investigation.”

  
“You have no idea what we’ve been through,” she says angrily, “everyone.”

  
He understands that look and sighs with an understanding smile.

  
“and I don’t pretend to Decker, but I’m not here to play therapist. I’m here to do a job.”

  
“If you open this investigation, you’re going to open up a really fresh wound.”

  
“Are you afraid this will turn into another palmetto?” he asks. The word cuts through her like a knife. Her eyes say fuck you, but she wants to keep her job, so she says nothing.

  
“Listen, I get it,” he says as if to throw her a bone, “but you have to understand I’m thinking about a larger picture here.”

  
“There is no larger picture,” she says, “read our reports. We’ve covered every angle, and it all has evidence to back it up.”

  
“Then, how does it feel knowing your department was led by a domestic terrorist? Do you think the public will be fine with a lack of investigation once that tidbit is revealed?” He asks abruptly.

  
Chloe’s mouth is agape, and she doesn’t know how to answer that question. Rather, she does but doesn’t like the answer. He is right, despite how much she wants him to be wrong. He nods and heads back to his deck.

  
“There are still loose ends here Detective. I was sure you of all people would understand that.”

  
He sits back down in his desk and scans through the document he was given earlier. He looks up to see Chloe still standing there.

  
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Detective?”

  
“So, I’m suspended then.” She asks, rhetorically.

  
He lets go a sharp exhale, then leans back in his chair.

  
“No, not at all. But until this investigation is over, you’re off homicide. No hard feelings, Detective.”

  
She scoffs and lets her arms drop by her side. She turns her head slightly to the bullpen and sees Ella looking back at her. Ella nods her head momentarily and gives her a thumbs up. Chloe shakes her head and rolls her eyes. The smile from Ella’s face fades.

  
“If anything,” Adams says, drawing Chloe’s attention back to him,” I figured it would be a way better compromise. They wanted to send you on a week’s leave, but I can’t have my best detective down for the count, can I?” he said with a soft smile.

  
“They wanted me to go on leave?” she says shocked.

  
“Yes,” Adams says as if to suggest the question was crazy, “I don’t know if you remember anything from that day Decker, but I was told you were downright catatonic.”

  
“I… I had a lot on my mind.”

  
“Understandable,” he says, “and while you process the events of that evening, it might be best to lighten your load.”

  
“With what? My desk is completely empty.” She says, arguably.

  
“I have a few cases coming your way,” he says, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a folder. He slides it to the edge of his desk, and Chloe walks forward to pick it up.

  
She opens the folder and looks over it momentarily before letting it droop in her hands.

  
“Surveillance?” she asks, scoffing at the task.

  
He nods and gives her a soft smile, “Justice for the living is still Justice.”

  
She sighs and reluctantly nods.

  
“In that case,” she says, the words struggling to reach her lips, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” It wasn’t exactly a well-meant thank you, the underlying fuck you was implied. He understood, however, and nodded.

  
She turns to leave, her body language saying she was not too happy about the conversation but was resigned to it.

  
“I was told you were a headstrong woman Detective,” he says. She pauses without turning to him.

  
“I’m glad to see recent events have not changed that.” She doesn’t even acknowledge him as she leaves, shutting the glass door behind her.

  
As the door closes, he leans back and opens the top drawer of his desk. He places the incident report folder into the drawer, right on top of a file labeled “Chloe Decker” before closing and locking the drawer.

  
\----

  
Chloe sits down at her desk and grunts. Ella follows her like a lost puppy.

  
“Well?” she asks, wondering what the conversation was about.

“He’s putting taking me off homicide until the investigation ends.”

  
Ella frowns, seeing the disappointment in Chloe's eyes. “Need a hug?” she asks, already halfway into hugging.

  
“No, I-“ Chloe refuses, but it’s too late. Ella locks her arms around Chloe in an embrace and Chloe reluctantly accepts.

  
“Well hello,” a British accent from nearby says.

  
They both look up towards him, his hands in his pockets and that devious smile on his face.

  
“Not now, Lucifer,” Chloe says, peeling Ella off of her.

  
“Oh Detective, far be it from me to interrupt a good girl on girl. I’m just a bit miffed I wasn’t invited.”

  
Ella rubs Chloe’s shoulder then heads back to her lab. Chloe then begins logging into her computer, not paying attention to Lucifer.

  
“What’s our plan for today Detective?” he says, grabbing the back of the chair next to her desk and sitting down quickly, his legs crossed towards her. He slightly leans in as if to whisper a secret.

  
“What gruesome crime scene awaits us today? Hmm?”

  
She sighs, and her eyes turn to the Lieutenants office momentarily before going back to Lucifer.

  
“No crime scenes for us,” she says, typing something into her computer, “I’ve been pulled off homicide for the week …maybe longer.”

  
“What?” he says, leaning back into his chair confused.

  
“Apparently, our new lieutenant thinks that I can’t be objective right now and is taking me off homicide cases.”

  
Lucifer turns to the new Lieutenants office, he can barely make out the man’s face as he is looking down at documents, but he can see the glorious head of hair.

  
“Well,” he says, “seems like he and I should have a conversation,” he says, preparing to stand up.

  
“No!” Chloe says, reaching a hand out to his arm and pushing him back into his seat.

He turns to her, looking at her confused. Had she just told him not to do something? Was he … _okay_ with that?

  
“I don’t want to stir up any more trouble,” Chloe says, lowering her head closer to her screen. Secretly, in fact, she agreed with the Lieutenant. The last few days had a mind-altering effect, and …maybe she did need some time to process it all. She needed some time to think about what everything meant, to figure out what was going on with her and Lucifer. A lighter caseload might help her with that.

Lucifer sighs and sits back in his seat, “very well then Detective. What nonsense case do they have us filling out time with?” he asks.

  
She shakes her head, “Surveillance. It’s the least difficult thing to do. You sit in a car with a pair of binoculars and a microphone and wait until someone does something.”

  
“So, no guns? No murders? No excitement? Excuse me for saying this Detective, but suddenly I am bored.”

  
Chloe sighs.

  
“You don’t have to come with me,” Chloe says, hoping that he will anyway.

  
He looks at her, she is trying hard not to meet his eyes and focus on her computer, but he can tell something is up. He might be oblivious to normal human emotion, but _this_ human …

  
He sighs, “Don’t be silly Detective.” He says, straightening an already straightened sleeve on his jacket, “of course I will accompany you. We’ll just have to find something to do to pass the time.”

  
She doesn’t have to look at him to understand his implication. She slowly turns her head to his, a smile wanting badly to escape her pursed lips. Her eyes shift past Lucifer’s boyish grin and notice the Lieutenant looking directly at her and Lucifer. She coughs and averts her eyes back to her screen.

  
She begins to type, noticing Lucifer fidgeting in the corner of her eye.

  
“Maybe this time I could be the small spoon,” she says, a smirk curling in the corner of her mouth. Lucifer looks at her, eyes wide.

  
“Yes well, had you been we might not have slept at all that evening.” Her smile fades, and she turns to Lucifer. Their eyes locked. That look he gives, the look that makes her neck heat up, and her palms sweat. She wants to stay in his gaze forever, but she forces herself to snap out of it. Casually glancing around to make sure no one saw them.

  
“Right,” she says, trying to think about anything else, fully aware of how red her neck and face must have become, “well we’re on the afternoon shift so, let me finish typing up this inquiry, and we’ll head out, yeah?”

  
Lucifer nods and leans back in his chair. He looks around briefly, watching humans mill about in the station. He turns his head to Ella, busy dancing in her lab to her music. He smiles, he was also fond of this human. Not like the detective, but …fond enough. He turns his eyes around to Daniel’s desk to see it empty. _Curious_ , he thinks.

\--

Amenadiel walks down the sidewalk of a busy street. He watches as the people pass by him, not paying attention to him. He missed that. In the Silver City, every move made was witnessed by someone. Had he had to defecate while there, someone would have watched him.

  
His thought process is cut short as he enters the opening of a dirty alley. He stands there, looking deep down the alley and sighs. He hated crossroads demons, but he needed some information and the best way to find out who came through that door was to speak to the person with the key.

  
He walks into the alley and approaches a cardboard box with feet sticking out. He kicks the box, and the feet stir. The gentleman inside crawls out and stands. He is greeted with a tall, buff black dude in a hoodie and jeans. There is an uncomfortable look in his eyes.

  
“I was told you give favors.” He says, in a deep and unmoving voice.

  
The gentleman smiles, his body relaxing.

  
“Why yes,” he says, “for a price.”

  
Amenadial nods and pulls a stack of 100 dollar bills out of his pocket. The man’s eyes widen, his mouth almost salivating thinking of all the steaks and liquor he can buy with that money.

  
“Will this do?” he asks, presenting the money.

  
The gentleman nods and smiles, reaching for the bills, “What do you want in return? Fame? Women? I can already see fortune isn’t on the table.”

  
Amenadial yanks the money away and the man looks shocked.

  
“Right,” he says, “business first.”

  
“I need information,” Amenadial says.

  
The man looks at him, a suspicious look in his eyes.

  
“What kind of information?”

  
\--

  
Chloe sits in the driver’s seat of her car, parked on the opposite side of the street behind a large SUV. She focuses her camera on a house one block away. The neighborhood is quiet, save for a few random cars passing by and longer and longer intervals. She checks her watch, 1:30 p.m. Where is Lucifer? She thinks. She sent him out to get her some coffee, and he hadn’t returned yet. She focuses the binoculars on the house again. No sign of movement, not even a car in the driveway. She sighs and sits back. This isn’t why she joined the force. Grunt Work? Right now, she could be out there solving a murder.

  
She sits back in her seat, setting the camera in the side compartment. Her head falls back, and she suddenly finds her eyes closing.

  
\--

  
The passenger side door opens, and she pops her head up only to see Lucifer sit down in the seat next to her. He holds a cup of warm coffee in his hand and hands it to her.

  
“Terribly sorry about the wait, but the barista was ….fascinating,” he says, that charming smile.

  
She smiles and takes the coffee from him. She takes a sip and closes her eyes. It was much-needed coffee. It’s warmth and aroma brighten her right up.

  
“Satisfied?” he says with that grin on his face — _that grin_.

  
That grin that stirred something deep inside of her. She bites her lower lip, wanting so badly to lick that grin off his face.

  
“I know that look,” he says, his eyes glazed over and a depth to his voice that sends her over the edge. Losing what little control she had left.

  
“Shut up,” she says, in one swift movement climbing over him to straddle his lap. She was tired of waiting. She was tired of playing this game. She wanted him, and he wanted her. This forbidden fruit was ripe for the taking.

  
“Detective!” he says shocked.

  
“Shut up,” she says again, planting a kiss that threatens to eat him whole. He reciprocates, giving up all hope of resisting her touch.

His hands fall to her ass and grips it for dear life, pulling her closer. Her hands impatiently go to her shirt, unbuttoning them at a feverish speed. He lets go of her and begins to take off his jacket. Their breathing quickens. She can’t believe this is happening. Right now. It wasn’t how she thought this would be but … the heat between them both threatened to burn them alive.

She reaches her hands down between her legs to find his zipper. She can already feel his pants are tight and a bulge beneath his zipper begs for freedom. The windows have already started to fog.

  
“Slow down!” he begs, as she sloppily kisses his face.

  
“Detective,” he manages to get out, ”Wait. People are starting to watch.” He says concerned.

  
“Let them,” she says, a deep growl inside. Her eyes turn, glazed in lust, to meet the eyes of their lucky viewers. Then her heart stops. There, on the sidewalk next to the car are three figures: a man, a woman, and a child. Their eyes completely blackened out.

  
She stops all movement and watches them, all lust in her eyes replaced with fear. They stare at her, like a lion stares at his prey. Their mouths curled up in excitement; eager.

  
“Lucifer, do you see that?” she asks as she turns her head to him. She nearly jumps out of her skin when they meet gazes. His eyes are also completely black.

  
“See what?” he asks, his tongue flicking like that of a snake.

  
\--

  
Chloe bolts straight up in her seat, catching her breath. She gasps for air. The air inside the car is thick and warm, and a thin fog has started to form on the windows despite the air conditioning being on. She rolls down the window, reveling at the brisk wind that greets her.

She catches her breath. The door next to her opens, and she nearly jumps out of her seat. Lucifer, holding two cups from the local coffee shop, gets in and shuts the door behind him. He reaches his hand out to hand her the coffee. She looks at him, a look in her eyes as if she had seen a ghost. He looks at her oddly.

  
“Well,” he says, “Don’t tell me you don’t want coffee anymore." There is disappointment in his voice, but he sounds more annoyed than anything. She gently takes the cup from him, looking at him in a way that makes him think she might reach out and poke him, just to see if he is real.

  
“Thanks,” she says timidly, sipping the coffee. She looks back to the house, still no movement.

  
Lucifer leans back in the chair, making himself comfortable and takes a sip of the cup of tea he got for himself. She looks at him, his tight dress pants and fitting shirt. Despite the dream she just had ending horrible, she couldn’t help but feel…something. Like the snake that uncoiled itself inside her was still there, growling and waiting to be satiated. Wanting to rip him apart. Right now, right here. He turned to her, a look of concern in his eyes.

  
“Everything alright, Detective?” he asks, “You’re looking at me …strangely.”

  
She shakes her head and diverts her eyes.

  
“Yeah,” she says, before taking another sip,” I just … I think you should come over tonight.” She says, her eyes staring forward at the house.

  
“Oh?” he says, in a voice that suggests he knows what this is about, “Darling, we should really go to my place. I like to… take my time.” He says in a deep voice that sends chills up her spine.

  
“No,” she says, her voice cracking beneath the weight of his words — a voice inside her wanting badly to say yes, yes, _yes_.

  
“I uhm… It’s Taco night, and Trixie was asking about you.”

  
“Oh,” Lucifer says, somewhat disappointed, “the spawn asked for me?”

  
Chloe chuckles, “Her name is Trixie. You can just use her name.”

  
“Right,” he says, forgetting humans and their offspring were bonded in a way he never really got growing up.

  
“Unless, you have plans,” she says, trying to give him an out.

  
“At the moment I do not. Should I bring something?” he asks.

  
She smiles.

  
“Chocolate cake.”

\--

  
Chloe is in the kitchen gathering bowls of toppings and setting them on the table. Trixie sits by the living room coffee table, drawing something.

  
“Dinner’s ready, Monkey,” she says, setting a bowl of tomato pieces on the table. Trixie stands up, drops the crayon and hustles over to the table.

  
“Lucifer isn’t here yet,” she says,” we can’t start without him!” she says.

  
“and we won't!” Chloe says with a smile, “now go wash your hands.”

  
Trixie runs off to a nearby bathroom and cuts on the faucet. Just then the doorbell rings. Chloe wipes her hands on her apron and walks towards the door. She opens it to see Lucifer standing there with a bottle of wine and an entire chocolate cake. Her eyebrows raise, she didn’t expect him to bring a whole cake.

  
He sees the look on her face and frowns.

  
“Did I not bring the right one?” he says, lifting the cake to make sure the label says chocolate.

  
She smiles and takes the cake from him, “It’s fine.” She says, beckoning him inside.

  
“I also brought some wine from my cellar for us,” he says, “obviously the spawn…” he pauses and corrects himself.

  
“Trixie won’t be enjoying this with us, but I thought it would pair lovely with your ..” he turns to the table.

  
“Tacos,” she says with a laugh.

  
“yes, well. I did my best on the pairing,” he says.

  
Trixie runs out of the bathroom and immediately goes in for a hug on Lucifer.

  
“Lucifer!” she says excitedly. He recoils but settles uncomfortably in her hug.

  
“Good evening to you as well little one,” he says, “I’d offer you wine but… I understand in many parts of your culture that is frowned upon.”

  
Trixie smiles, her front tooth missing, presumably fallen out and taking time to grow back in. “You’re funny,” she says.

  
“Come, sit Monkey,” Chloe says, pulling out a chair for her. She prances to the seat and climbs up. Lucifer nods as Chloe sits down next to Trixie, staring at the empty space across from her.

  
\--

  
Later, after they’ve eaten and after the point in the evening where children should be in bed, Lucifer, sans jacket sits down on Chloe’s couch and relaxes. Chloe is inside Trixie’s room, tucking her in for the night.

  
“Mommy?” Trixie says, the sleep already apparent in her voice.

  
“yes?” she says softly, her hands gently pushing hair back out of her eyes.

  
“Can we please have a puppy?” she asks.

  
Chloe smiles,” Monkey …” she says, so softly it is almost a lullaby, “we already talked about this. You need to be a little older before we can get you a puppy.”

  
“I promise I will take care of him,” she says, whining.

  
Chloe leans in and kisses her on the forehead, before reaching over and turning off the light.

  
“Shh,” she says, “go to sleep now.”

  
Trixie adjusts herself in bed, not needing any more suggestion as sleep already has her deeply held.

  
Chloe walks to the door and closes it gently behind her. She leans up against it, too aware that she too would have to sleep soon. And those dreams ….

  
“So,” a voice behind her says. She turns to see Lucifer sipping another glass of wine. She walks around the couch and sits next to him.

  
“The evening has come to a close Detective,” he says.

  
“Yes,” she says, reaching to the table and picking up a glass of wine he had already poured her, “but it doesn’t have to.”

  
Lucifer raises his eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Chloe sits closer to him, nesting beneath his right arm, and brings the glass of wine to her mouth. He wishes to say something, but he doesn’t. She leans in closer, resting her head against his chest. She can hear his heartbeat, it's fast and rhythmic.

  
“Detective,” he begins to say, “ I … I never properly thanked you for the other night.”

  
She hums, it’s a comfortable and warm sound.

  
“Despite only sleeping?” she says, her voice calm and stoic but inside, she wanted to know the answer to a question she had been secretly asking herself since that night. Did he only want her for sex? Or was there something more?

  
He nods, “Yes. In fact … it was nice.”

  
“Yes,” she says,” it was.”

  
The silence is comfortable. His heartbeat slows, and his body relaxes beneath her.

  
“We should do that more,” she says.

  
“Well,” he says, his voice thick with humor and charm, “not too often. One of these days I’d like to…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but she knows what he means. She’d like to as well. In fact, she wanted to do it right now. Her eyes drift down to his lap; to those well-fitted pants. She sips her wine and hums in approval. It’s positively delicious … the wine too.

  
“Lucifer,” she asks, “what are we?”

  
There is no response. He thinks, but nothing comes to mind. He’s never experienced what he feels for her before. He didn’t yet have a word for it.

  
“I … I don’t know,” he says truthfully. They both take a sip of their wine.

  
“Yeah,” Chloe says in agreement, “I don’t know either.”

  
They sit there silent but comfortable. Her basking in his warmth and scent while fighting the feeling growing between her legs.

  
Him, holding her and feeling like he could stay there forever. Lucifer notices the rise and fall of Chloe’s breathe and looks down. She’s fast asleep. He smiles to himself, his heart swelling with …that feeling again. He reaches down and grabs the wine glass from her hand. It was dangerously close to slipping from her grip. He sets it down on the side table next to him. He slouches in the couch, getting more comfortable and driving her closer into his arms. He sighs, content and leans his head back, ready to fall asleep himself.

  
Suddenly, Chloe’s breathing changes. It becomes more ragged. He can feel her heart racing. He looks down to watch her; curious. A bead of sweat forms on her brow.

  
“Detective?” he says, curiously. Her breathing intensifies, and the heat between them rises. He can feel it, the terror rises from her like fog off a lake at dawn.

  
He sits up, grabbing her arms on both sides.

  
“Chloe!” he says gently shaking her.

  
Chloe’s eyes pop open and immediately grab his hands. She looks into his eyes like she’s seen the future and doesn’t like it. His eyes are painted with concern and worry. She looks around, and her breathing begins to slow.

  
“Are you okay?” he asks. She tears herself away from him and stands up, trying to gain a sense of where she is.

  
“I … I’m fine,” she finally says.

  
Lucifer stands up and places a hand on her back, it sinks into her shirt revealing a moistness that has developed beneath it.

  
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into her eyes. She looks back and sees the concern and worry in his eyes. The Lucifer of her dream was different. He was detached and cold, and … demonic. This Lucifer was different. _Her_   Lucifer was different. She smiles and reaches in to hold him. He reciprocates, and there they stand.

  
“I’m okay,” she finally says, “just had a bad dream.”

Her eyes stare off into the distance. Was she okay? Maybe she wasn't handling his truth as well as she had thought.

 


	5. The Good Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe seeks help from Linda, Dan's visions are getting worst as Lucifer notices something is wrong with him. Ella agrees to help Lucifer

It is the early hours of the morning, and the sun is just breaking over the horizon. The inside of Dan's apartment is dark and still. Inside his bedroom, Dan lays beneath the covers; wide awake. He wears a pair of earphones that play music so loud it rattles the earpieces. It doesn’t work though, and he can still hear the whispers.

“Daniel,” they say, echoing into each other. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to down them out.

  
Suddenly the cover begins to move off his face, slowly. He grabs it, trying hard to keep it where it is, but the force that pulls it is too strong. The covers slowly slide down his chest, then his waist, past his knees and finally off his feet. The cold room air hits his skin, sending goosebumps down his body. He is frozen in fear, knowing the A.C. isn't on.

  
“Daniel,” the voice again says. He keeps his eyes shut, a whimper bleeding from between his lips.

  
He feels a pressure at the edge of his bed, near his feet, as if someone were kneeling on it. Then another, as if someone were standing on it. The footsteps move until he can feel whoever or whatever it is standing over him.

  
“Daniel,” it says again, mere inches from his face, echoing into itself with urgency and daring him to open his eyes. He can hear it past the music; past the drums and the bass. It is clear as day as if it were a part of the song itself.

  
“Daniel!” it screams at him.

He cries out loud, his body shaking with fear. Suddenly the pressure is gone, and the room is still. His heart beats exceptionally fast. He listens for a moment, but there is nothing. He slowly opens his eyes, one by one and views the darkness of his room. Warily he sits up and looks around. There is no one there. He pauses, listening; waiting for something to happen, but nothing happens. Quickly he crawls to the edge of the bed, grabs his covers and tosses them over him. He lays there, motionless, silent, and warm.

  
-

  
The sun sends shards of light through the open blinds of Doctor Linda Martin’s office. It is quiet and peaceful. She sits, quietly sipping a cup of tea and going over paperwork when there is a gentle knock on her door.

  
“Come in,” she replies. The door opens, and Chloe is standing behind it with deep, dark circles beneath her eyes. Her skin, once pink and vibrant now pale as if she’s had the life drained out of her. Linda looks shocked. She had expected something to be up when Chloe called her, asking if she could come in for a morning session, but she hadn’t expected the look on Chloe’s face. Chloe timidly walks in, slowly closing the door behind her.

  
“Thanks for making time for me.” She says. Linda wipes the look of shock off her face and smiles. She stands up and moves around to the front of her desk, motioning for Chloe to have a seat on the couch.

  
“Of course, think of it as a perk in our friendship,” she says, moving around from her desk to the armchair opposite where Chloe sits, “though, in exchange I hope to have a free pass on a speeding ticket or two.”

  
Chloe smiles and lets go a lighthearted chuckle. Linda sits down in the chair across from her and crosses her legs.

  
“So,” she begins, relaxing deeply in her chair, “what can I help you with?”

  
Chloe fumbles with her hands, her eyes intent on her fingers almost like she is afraid to say.

  
“I uhm …” she doesn’t know how to start. There is silence between them while she mulls it through in her brain. Linda is patient and waits for her to form her words.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she says.

  
“Well that’s obvious,” Linda says. Chloe’s eyes finally move to Linda.

  
“That bad?” she asks.

  
Linda exhales as she speaks, “Yeah” she says, in a way that would be too cavalier to be professional if they weren’t friends. Linda brings a hand up to her mouth, an apologetic look on her face as if to ask for forgiveness at her outburst. Chloe’s eyes drift to the open window.

“Well, what’s on your mind?” Linda asks, “often when we can’t sleep it's because of an unresolved issue.”

  
Chloe closes her eyes deeply, pulling the words out of the depths of her minds and trying to form a sentence. She knits her brow, then opens her eyes to meet Lindas.

  
“Lucifer told me something … or rather, showed me something,” she says, “and at first I admit it was … a lot to take in. But, we talked, and I think we worked things out … “ her voice trails off again.

  
“What did he tell you?” Linda asks. Chloe’s eyes pop to her. They stare at one another, a look of intensity as they try to read each other’s expression; a visual Mexican stand-off.

Maybe Chloe was wrong to infer that Linda knew anything. For all she knows, she could still think Lucifer is speaking in metaphors. After all, who would knowingly offer therapy to the devil? Still, she knew Linda enough to parse that look. It was the look of understanding; look that said she knew what Chloe was thinking.

“He told me he was the devil,” she says.

  
Linda smiles, her words teetering on the edge of revelation.

  
“And you believed him,” she says, an inflection that indicates it could be a question.

  
Chloe nods, “I used to think he was speaking in metaphors but … now I know he isn’t.”

  
“Thank _God_ ,” Linda bursts out. Chloe looks at her confused as Linda relaxes deeply in her chair, her eyes rolled back in her head momentarily.

  
“I mean, I know considering the topic that probably isn’t the best turn of phrase but … screw it Lucifer isn’t here. I mean, Jesus Christ it took him long enough.” She says, continuing her rambling of words.

Chloe sits back dazed. Was she the last to know?

  
Linda looks back at Chloe and sees the look on her face. Right. She’s meant to _help_ her.

“Sorry.” She says, “it’s just kind of … it’s a big relief is all.”

“Glad one of us feels relief,” Chloe says.

  
“Is this what is keeping you awake at night?” Linda asks, “because I promise you it gets better. You just have to let it run its course.”

  
Chloe nods, “So the dreams will go away?” she asks. Linda’s face lowers, a serious now behind her eyes.

  
“You’re having dreams?”

  
“Well … more like nightmares.” Linda looks her over. The deep dark circles beneath her eye, the pale and clammy skin, and the shifty eyes. She’s seen this before.

  
“Tell me about them,” Linda says, suddenly back in therapist mode.

  
\---

  
At the station, Lucifer waits patiently at Chloe’s desk. He checks his watch, noting that it is odd of her to appear this late. He sighs himself to become more comfortable in his chair. Then he hears the tapping, like someone tapping a pen on a wooden table. It goes on, and on, and on. Finally, he spins around to face the culprit.

  
“Will you stop that infernal racket!” he says. Daniel looks up from his table, then down at the pen in his hand. He hadn’t even realized he’d been tapping. He tosses Lucifer a glance to say sorry, then puts his head back down. Lucifer wouldn’t have noticed Daniel's odd behavior if he didn’t start shaking his leg.

Lucifer watches Daniel, his head lowered and staring up close at the paper in front of him. His leg shakes fast as if to suggest there is something on his mind. Lucifer’s curiosity is piqued, and since the Detective is late, he might as well have some fun. He stands up and walks towards Daniel’s desk.

  
“Detective Douche,” he says emphatically, in a tone that indicates he intends to irritate Dan to pass his time.

  
Daniel looks up at Lucifer. He looks tired, but his eyes are incredibly focused on Lucifer, almost as if he were attempting to keep his eyes locked in one direction.

  
“What do you want? I’m busy,” he says, as he turns back to his paper. Lucifer looks down and notices that the document on his desk is upside down; he isn’t reading it at all. Lucifer turns his eyes to his shaking leg.

  
“I couldn’t help notice that you seem a little tense,” he says, pulling up a chair to Daniel’s desk and sitting, “I don’t suppose you’d like to talk about it?”

  
Daniel scoffs, “There is nothing to talk about, okay? I’m just … I have a lot on my mind.”

  
“Perhaps I can help you with whatever is on your mind. I’m excellent at problem-solving,” Lucifer says, crossing his legs and leaning back comfortably in his chair.

  
“I’m fine,” he says, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you anyway.”

  
Lucifer watches Daniel; he can tell that no amount of pushing would get him to reveal what is bothering him. In fact, pushing him might close him off completely. Instead, he watches as Daniels' eyes focus intently on that paper. Daniel can't be possibly reading it upside down, he thinks. He continues watching until he notices it; the split second that Danie's eyes drift left as if he notices something. Lucifer looks to see what his eyes might have seen, but there is nothing there but an empty wall. No, he doesn't see anything there, but it is clear Daniel does.

  
Something has Daniel's attention, he thinks, Could it be that simple? Could this escaped soul have been hiding right under his eyes? He wanted to tackle Daniel right there, but escaped souls were tricky if they hadn't latched on correctly. There was no way of truly knowing yet if Daniel were unknowingly harboring this fugitive and acting too soon could make anyone else a target. He turns to view everyone else in the station, milling about and utterly oblivious of the ticking time bomb in front of them. Lucifer turns back to Daniel, aware of what he had to do.

  
“Well,” Lucifer says standing up, “I do believe I tried.”

  
He puts the chair back where he found it and begins to walk away, then he pauses.

  
“Daniel,” he says before turning around a mischievous smile on his face, “what are you doing this evening? I’m having a small gathering at my penthouse, and well, you look like you could use a little company.”

  
Dan looks up at Lucifer, ready to reject his offer. Just then a thought crosses his mind, being alone is the last thing he wants right now.

  
“Sure,” he nods, “I guess I can make it.”

  
“Excellent,” Lucifer says, “My place, six-thirty?”

  
Daniel nods then immediately look back down at the paper on his deck. Lucifer watches him momentarily. _How could he have been so blind_?

  
\---

  
“Do you often dream of Lucifer?” Linda asks, adjusting herself in her chair.

  
Chloe’s eyes shy away from Linda’s, “I mean … I don’t know. Sometimes, yeah.”

  
Linda nods,” I see. So how does he make you feel now that you know who he is?”

  
“Honestly,” Chloe says staring off into the distance, searching her heart for the answer. After a few moments of searching and not finding anything, she turns back to Linda and says, “I don’t know how I feel.”

  
“Well, what do you think you should feel?” she asks.

  
“I guess I should feel … I don’t know. Afraid. Terrified. I should want to stay as far away from him as possible.”

  
“And yet you can’t,” Linda chimes in with a soft smile.

  
Chloe shakes her head no.

  
“I don’t want to,” Chloe replies in a matter of fact manner, “The Lucifer I know isn’t …he isn’t some evil guy who eats babies and murders virgins.”

  
“At least not in that way,” Linda says, her eyes drifting off, remembering when Lucifer used to pay her in sex. She sighs deeply to herself, before remembering she’s in front of Chloe. Chloe doesn’t notice though; she’s lost in her thought. She looks up to see Chloe blankly staring deeply into nothingness. Past the wall, maybe even past the city.

  
Linda sighs and sits back in her chair. She thinks to herself for a moment and then nods when she’s picked the right answer to the question in her head.

  
“Love is … the most illogical feeling that humans can ever experience,” she says, “and sometimes the only way to face the illogical is with the logical.”

  
Chloe listens intently.

  
“We’ve heard so much about who and what the devil is, but to be face to face with the devil himself and not get any of that is truly …confusing. I mean, how do you reconcile a man who is flawed, but kind and principled with this idea of a …horned demon who flies around and tempts people with apples?” she asks.

  
Chloe laughs.

  
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she says.

  
Linda smiles.

  
“Lucifer is a lot of things, Chloe, but he isn’t a liar. He is often confused about the most simple of human interactions. It’s taken me a long time to figure out but, I think his idea of evil is far less evil than some of the things we humans have done to ourselves. He should probably be the one afraid of … us ...” she says, trailing off at the end like she’s finally cracked a code.

  
Chloe nods. Linda was right, but why did she still feel wrong?

  
Linda shakes her head, knocking her out of whatever realization she just made. She looks at Chloe, who is still looking at her intently.

  
“Would I be out of bounds to suggest that before you believed him in who he was that you were hesitant to explore something more than friendship with him?” Linda asks.

  
Chloe nods, “I felt like he was holding back from me and I didn’t want to … start anything with someone that couldn’t open up,” she says.

  
“And now that you know who he is, and what he was holding back you’ve unconsciously allowed yourself to think about what it might be like to explore a romantic relationship with him. Maybe your dreams are an unconscious manifestation of that struggle. Maybe you’re afraid that giving into that feeling makes you one of these … black eyed people.”

  
Chloe nods, her forehead crinkles. _Oh, she's good_. What would it mean to fall in love with the devil? That’s who he was, but … it felt so wrong calling him that. Like, it didn’t fit who he was or who she had thought he was. And how could she ever understand his world? If they did go down that road, it wasn’t just their friends watching … it was the whole world, maybe even the entire universe.

  
“So these dreams could be … me being afraid of what pursuing something with him means.”

  
Linda nods.

  
“What does it mean?” Chloe says, almost rhetorically. She sits back in her seat, blown away by her revelation. All this time she thought she had been taking the news reasonably well but …   
“Lucifer may be a lot of things, including the actual devil,” Linda says, “but deep down he’s just like you and me. He’s flawed, scared, prideful, arrogant ... vulnerable.” She says.  
Chloe looks up, that word.

  
"Vulnerable?" she asks, remembering the conversation her and Lucifer had so long ago.

  
Linda nods. “He may be immortal, but he is a still a man; a man who struggles with his own … burgeoning humanity," she says.

  
Chloe nods and bites her lips.

  
“So what do I do?” she asks.

  
Linda seems surprised, “You’re asking me for my opinion?” she asks.

  
“yes,” Chloe says.

  
Linda was so used to Lucifer walking off with his own - albeit troublesome – solution she hadn’t stopped to think that Chloe wouldn’t be the same; It was refreshing.

  
“Well,” she begins, “I want to preface this by saying that I normally don’t talk about other patients with ... well anyone,” she says.

  
Chloe turns to her, intrigued by how cautiously she is speaking.

  
“But … we both know Lucifer isn’t a normal patient.”

  
There is a small pause of silence as Linda gets her words together, her mouth agape and her eyes focused on the pencil in her hand.

  
“Lucifer … is very solution oriented. He’s a fixer. But I don’t think he’s quite figured out the solution to … how he feels about ... certain things,” she says, turning her eyes to Chloe. Trying hard to impress what the topic is really about and hoping Chloe gets the message.

  
“I hope that if you choose to pursue something with him that you do so with clear intent. I get the feeling that he has not experienced romantic love before and that heartbreak isn't something from which he’s equipped to recover. Like, ever.”

  
Chloe nods.

  
“Right.” She says nodding; trying to understand the gravity of what Linda is saying.

  
“And he’s immortal so … when I say ever I mean ever …ever.” She says.

  
Chloe laughs and nods, “Yes, I understand.”

  
Linda stares her straight into the eyes, “do you?”

  
They stare one another down for a moment before there is a knock on the door. It’s Linda’s first real appointment of the day. Chloe exhales and stands up, “Thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about” she says. Linda nods.

  
“and thanks for, you know … talking with me,” she says, “I think it helped.”

  
Linda smiles, “Anytime Chloe.”

  
Chloe walks towards the door and reaches for the handle.

  
“As far as the dreams go, “Linda says, “Might I suggest maybe taking the day off? You could use some rest. Also, perhaps a sleeping pill might be in order? You know, just to get the ball rolling.”

  
Chloe turns to her and smiles,” that’s a good idea.”

  
Chloe opens the door and walks past the gentleman waiting.

  
\--

  
Lucifer walks into Ella’s lab, where she is busy writing something on a notepad. She looks up just as he enters.

  
“Speak of the Devil!” she says to him. He pauses and looks at her confused.

  
“I beg your pardon?” he asks, wondering to himself if she too had seen his devil face.

  
“It’s a turn of phrase silly,” she says, setting the notepad down on her lab table and walking around to her computer, “It means I was just thinking about you.”

  
“Oh,” Lucifer says, before a cheeky grin comes to the corner of his mouth, “Why Ms. Lopez..”

  
“Not like that!,” she interrupts, “I was just wondering if you could help me with some cases since Chloe called out today.”

  
“Excuse me? What of Detective Decker?” Lucifer says, having heard this for the first time.

  
“Oh, did she not tell you? Yeah, she called out today. I mean, not that she needs to come in today. If I had to do grunt work all week, I’d call out too.”

  
“Yes,” Lucifer nods, thinking of why the Detective wouldn’t have informed him about her sudden absence. Perhaps he could visit her and spend the afternoon with her. A familiar feeling stirs inside his gut. His eyes mindlessly turn to Ella and notice the cross necklace that dangles around her neck. Suddenly a thought comes to his mind, a solution to his current problem of what to do with this lost soul once it reveals itself in Daniel.

  
“Ms. Lopez,” he says, “are you familiar with exorcisms?”

  
She turns to him, a suspicious look in her eyes.

  
“Uh … that is an interesting segue, but …sure, I know what they are.”

  
“have you ever performed one?” he asks.

  
She chuckles, “No Lucifer I have never performed an exorcism. That kind of stuff is for priests and ghost hunters.”

  
“Yes, but you’re a believer, aren’t you?”

  
She stops what she is doing and turns to face Lucifer. Is he bringing up the religion angle? The person that goes around referring to themselves as the devil? Okay, she thinks, I’ll bite.  
“Of course, aren’t you?”

  
“Liking and believing are two separate things, Ms. Lopez.”

  
She nods, “right.” Why does she even bother?

  
She turns back to her screen and types in a few keywords before hitting the save and export option. Great. That’s done, onto the next case.

  
“What if I told you it was all real?” he asks.

  
She doesn’t even look up from her screen,” then I’d believe you. That is what having faith is all about.”

  
“Ah,” he says, walking around the table to stand next to her,” but what if you didn’t need faith anymore? What if I proved to you it was all real?”

  
Ella looks at him oddly. Is he saying he can prove the existence of God? Of heaven? Of hell?

  
“Faith doesn’t rely on proof,” she says, turning to him, again trying to get the point across, “Having faith in something isn’t about being able to prove or disprove its existence. It’s about believing in something, despite everything to tell you that you shouldn’t.”

  
He looks at her curiously. Do humans often trust their emotions despite their ability to lead them wrong?

  
“When you first came to this department for example,” she says, “no one believed someone with zero police experience could help with cases. But Chloe had faith in you, and so did I. Despite continuing to prove those critics wrong, it’s not about what you can do. It’s about believing and supporting you against all the odds.”

  
“So you would blindly follow me?” he asks, already scoffing at the idea that has led to half the cells in hell being filled with religious zealots who covered their murder in piety.

  
“It’s not blind if I choose to see the good in you. We all share a common goal.” She says softly before turning back to her computer, “We want justice for those who cannot seek it themselves and we want to see the guilty punished for their crimes. ”

_Punishment_ , he thought, perhaps they weren’t so different after all. Lucifer stands there in his thoughts for a moment, silent in his thoughts. Ella was illogical and passionate. She was steadfast in her belief but … her belief was in him, so … maybe it wasn’t that bad? So she had a few things wrong about God, and the fall, and his brothers and sisters, but they all did. He smiled to himself. Yes, he was fond of this human.

  
“Ms. Lopez,” he says finally, “I am having a gathering tonight. I would like you to attend..”

  
“I don’t know Lucifer,” she says walking away from her computer and stuffing the file she finished into a cabinet, “that’s kind of short notice.”

  
“I understand, but your presence is important. Without you there … someone could get hurt.” She turns to look at him. What does he mean by hurt? She pauses and replays their conversation in their head. Her shoulders drop, and she tilts her head. _Why is she not surprised_.

  
“Are you trying to perform an exorcism on someone?” she asks, like a mother who just found their child eating crayons.

  
“Yes,” Lucifer says in a matter of fact manner.

  
“Lucifer I … I don’t know the first thing about exorcisms.”

  
“Don’t worry Ms. Lopez; we will guide you.”

  
She shakes her head, ready to say no to this ridiculous thing.

  
“In return, I will give you whatever you want,” he says.

  
“Lucifer I –“

  
“Whatever you truly desire,” he interrupts, walking forward, staring deeply into her soul.

  
“Tell me, Ms. Lopez, what do you truly desire?”

  
She looks into his eyes, they move and swirl like the milky way. She finds herself getting lost in them; a cavernous depth to them she hadn’t noticed before. Inside them, there is warmth and safety. There is a promise of wealth beyond her wildest imagination or at the least, a permanent release of the most substantial weight on her heart.

  
“I ...” she begins.

  
“Yes?” Lucifer says, coaxing the words out of her; a soft but deep grin coming over his face.

  
“I … I want my brothers to be safe,” she says.

  
His grin fades, and Ella snaps out of it. Unaware of how she just let that piece of information go.

  
“Oh,” Lucifer says, a confusion falling over his face. He had expected her to want something that would benefit her selfishly; perhaps better lab equipment, or a shinier necklace. This … this was different.

  
“I worry about them every day,” she says, suddenly in the mood to speak of them, moving away from the cabinet and heading back to her computer to pull up the next case.  
“They don’t always do the smartest things and … I’m worried one day I won’t be able to dig them out of whatever mess they get into.”

  
Lucifer nods.

  
“If you assist me with this matter, I can see to it they find better employment,” he says.

  
“You mean you want to do me a favor?” she asks turning to him.

  
Lucifer nods,” yes.”

  
Ella shakes her head and turns back to her computer.

  
“I don’t want a favor from you Lucifer. They are my brothers, and I can’t ask anyone else to get involved. Thank you though … really.”  
He sighs.

  
“Very well,” he says, “I will have to find someone else to help me. I suppose I can pay a visit for St Matthews.”

  
Ella chuckles., “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. I just … I don’t want your favor.” She says.

  
Lucifer seems confused,” so you would help me with nothing in return.”

  
She smiles, “Is this your first friendship?” she asks with a chuckle as if to suggest he is ridiculous.

  
He smiles a genuine smile. Yes, he could overlook her unending worship of his father. Once she figured out who he was, that would fix itself anyway.  
“So, when are we doing this?” she asks, knocking Lucifer out of his slight admiration.

  
“This evening. Let’s say, ten?”

  
“Why so late?” she asks, looking over the new case she pulled up.

  
“I have some …preparations I need to make,” he says.

  
Ella shrugs. She turns her attention to the case in from of her and let us go a curious hum — her face wrinkles like she’s stuck.

  
“White male, mid 30’s, no identifying information, no apparent signs of injury, autopsy comes back clean … this one is a doozy,” Ella says out loud.

  
“Sounds like you have your hands full,” Lucifer says, walking around the table towards the door, “I’ll leave you to it.”

  
“Oh good, DNA came back. Let’s see … Andrew McClellan …” she says.

  
Lucifer stops in his tracks and turns around quickly.

  
“What did you just say?” he asks. Ella looks up at him.

  
“They identified the John Doe from last night. Andrew McClellan,” she says, turning the screen around to show two images side by side. On the right, the Driver's License of Andre McClellan. On the left, a crime scene photo of Andrew McClellan laying face up, his eyes completely dead and his skin pale and blue.

  
Lucifer’s face turns pale, and there is a look of sheer terror in his eyes.

  
Ella raises an eyebrow, “Lucifer? Are you okay?”

  
He doesn’t answer. He just stares intently at the screen; his eyes wide and his throat dry. His heart beats faster, and his palms begin to sweat. _This isn’t right_. _This can't be real_. Someone _killed_   the messenger.

 


	6. Meet Cassius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel finally figures out who broke out of hell while Lucifer attempts to quickly find who killed the messenger. He gets a visit from someone he hasn't seen in a long time and Chloe takes a sleeping pill. Also, Trixie gets a puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than the others, its practically two chapters in one. I messed up on the last chapter and included some details that shouldn't be there yet so I had to backtrack and fix so that my story plan follows the plot I laid out. Sorry for such the long stretch. I hope this was worth the wait.

  
Lucifer stares with a blank expression. No, this can’t be right. This … _this can’t be right_.

“Oh my god!” Ella says, recognizing the look on his face. She turns the monitor around, facing away from him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she says panicking. She walks around the table to Lucifer, ”I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I…,” he says, trying to get the words beneath him., “I didn’t really. I mean I should have, but I didn’t really” he’s in a state of fog, not because of Andrews death but because of what it means.

The last time someone killed a messenger … his stomach begins to churn. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time. It was the feeling of true fear. Not for him but for the mortals he’s come to … like? _Love_?

“Have a seat,” Ella says, pulling up an office chair with wheels. Lucifer begins to decline her offer, but she pushes him down into the chair. Usually, he’d comment on her insistence and how it would translate well into the bedroom, but at this moment he can only think of one thing; Amenadiel.

  
He needs to speak with Amenadiel. And Chloe, he needs to protect Chloe. His eyes drift up to Ella. And this one, this mortal, he’ll need to protect her as well. He needs to protect them all. He snaps out of his thought process for a moment when he notices the look that Ella is giving him. It’s of concern, she wants to help, but he misreads it as pity. _No one should pity the Devil_.

  
“Do you want to talk about it buddy?” she says in a soft tone.

  
“No,” he says as he stands up, catching his feet beneath him. He is angry at her assumed pity but more angry at himself that he let himself get overwhelmed, “I need to find my brother.”  
I need to fix this.

  
He walks towards the door before stopping. Suddenly aware of how his outburst must have looked. He turns around to see a sad Ella, no doubt blaming herself for the faux-pas. He sighs. Mortals are too complicated.

  
“Uh,” he manages to get out, “maybe hold off on the gathering tonight? I need … somethings come up.”

  
She nods, “I’m really sorry Lucifer,”

  
He lets go a halfhearted smile, and his eyes begin to drift, “Yes, as am I.” They catch eyes again, but only momentarily as Lucifer again turns and leaves.

  
\--

  
Chloe enters her home and closes the door behind her. She leans exhaustedly against the door before peeling her body off of it and dragging herself forward. She sets her keys and phone haphazardly on the counter. The phone momentarily flickers on, revealing the time is 10:06 a.m.

  
She sets a white bag down and walks around her counter to pull a glass from her cupboard. She fills the glass with water and sets it next to the bag. She reaches in and pulls out a box that reads “Sleep aid.” Yawning, she opens the box, rips apart two tablets from the foil square and gently pops them into her mouth. She then grabs the glass and swallows. She sighs as she sets the glass down, ready to finally sleep. She drags herself to the couch where she collapses and waits as she stares at the ceiling.

  
She watches sunlight dance on her ceiling, the shadow of plants dancing in the breeze outside. She wonders if she should turn on the television to pass the time but decides against it; she is too comfortable. Slowly she can feel her body starting to relax, releasing a resistance she didn’t know was there. She can feel herself slowly giving in to sleep as the drug relaxes every limb in her body. By the time she thinks about the dreams and what would happen if she couldn’t wake up from them, it is too late. Her body relaxes, her eyes close, and she finally drifts into a deep sleep.

  
\--

  
Chloe finds herself standing in an empty marbled foyer. She looks around confused then slowly begins to realize where she is. It's the room where she and Lucifer stared down Peirce and his henchmen. She stands near the stairway, where she stood when she saw Lucifer’s devil face.

She looks out into the room again and sees two figures with their backs turned to her. _How long have they been there?_ They speak between them in a tongue she can’t recognize. It is either because they murmur, almost as if they were sharing a secret, or because they are speaking a different language – one she’s never heard before.

  
She looks around for other people, but it’s just them.

  
“Hello?” she says, her voice echoing, but they don’t respond. Instead, they keep talking to themselves. She cautiously steps forward.

  
“Hello?” she says again. Still, they don’t respond. The closer she gets to them, the more she can make out what they are saying.

  
“She’ll never love you, not the real you,” says one man to the other.

  
“You don’t know that,” he replies. The voices sound familiar but muffled and gravely.

  
“No one will ever love you, not with what you’ve done.” The man continues.

  
“You’re a liar!” the other replies.

  
“Hello?” Chloe says, mere feet from the two men now. This hello seems to resonate, as they stop talking. She can sense their bodies tensing up. Their heads slowly begin to turn towards her and a lump hitches in her throat.

  
It’s Peirce and Lucifer, except not. Their eyes are deep and dark, and that crooked smile is on their face. She can feel her heart beating hard in her chest, as she backs up. They are fully turned to her now and watch her curiously.

They wait as if expecting something to happen. There all three of them stand in silence. The men take their eyes off her briefly to look around, their eyes scanning the room. When nothing happens, their smiles creep further into the corners their faces, and they slowly step forward towards her.

  
“I told you she’d never love you,” Peirce says, “look at her face.”

  
Lucifer continues to smile through his reply, his words sickeningly tainted as they crawl from his teeth, ”but she can’t help it. The silly human can’t help but love me,” he says.

  
Chloe backs up, almost tripping over her feet as she turns to face the steps. Her heart sinks as she realizes the steps have disappeared; she’s trapped. She whips her head around, trying to find another exit, only to see both men are gone and she now stands by herself in a small room the size of an elevator. The room only has one exit and entrance, indicated by a single wooden door. She looks at it confused; her heart beat slowing.

  
Suddenly, a gentle knock on the door.

  
“Chloe?” it says, in a voice that sounds a lot like Lucifers. It’s warm and comforting, and nothing like it was before.

  
“Lucifer?” she says, her voice betraying her fear.

  
“Chloe? I … I need to tell you something. I’ve been meaning to for a while now but … well, I don’t know how to say it.”

  
“Lucifer is that you?” she asks again, stepping closer to the door, wanting to run into his arms.

  
“Yes, can you let me in? I just ... I really need to talk.”

  
She reaches forward and grabs the doorknob, opening the door. A large gust of wind knocks her over, and she is shocked to find there is nothing there. Confused she stares into a darkness that looks a lot like the starry sky. It seems to stare back at her, maybe even into her.

  
Suddenly, she finds herself lying in a soft bed with white linen; it’s comfortable and warm. She sits up and looks around to find she is inside an entirely white space that seems to go on forever. It’s empty and silent, but she feels safe and warm and … _tired_. She closes her eyes and sinks into the bed. It promises her safety, and she willingly accepts. Her eyes close and she lays there peacefully for a moment that seems to go on forever.  
Slowly, a hand begins to crawl over her shoulder and move its way down her side. Her eyes pop open. Someone is laying beside her.

  
\--

  
It is night time outside when Chloe opens her eyes. She grunts to life with a heaviness in her limbs makes her want to go back to sleep, but she can’t shake the feeling that she needs to sit up. Slowly, she sits upright and catches her bearings. Her home is silent and dark, save for a dim light in the kitchen. She glances around.

  
“Trixie?” she says groggily. No answer. She tries to remember if Trixie is staying with Dan tonight. No, she can’t be, she thinks, it’s a school night. She goes to stand, but her legs are too heavy, and she ends up sitting back down.  
 _What was in that sleeping pill?_

  
“I was starting to worry,” a voice says from the kitchen, ”If I had picked the right person.”

She turns her head back to her dining room table. A figure sits, his back turned towards her. There is something familiar about him; familiar yet strange. She feels both comfortable, but eerily on guard.  
He turns to her, a genuine smile on his face. His dark, deep eyes are wild – yet kind. He shares a similarly charming grin to Lucifer. In fact, if she didn’t take a second glance, she’d think it was Lucifer. But the more she looks at him, the more apparent it becomes that this is someone else.

  
“Normally we would have had this conversation already, but … you’re much tougher an egg to crack than I expected. I can see why he likes you.”

  
He stands, the chair groaning as he shifts his weight onto his feet.

  
“Though, I can’t for the life of me understand why you like him,” he continues, a curious tone in his voice.

  
He is tall like Lucifer but thinner. And his hair is a weird combination between perfectly coifed and untameably free. He stands tall and proud, an air of arrogance to him. It's an air she’s only seen in one person. She squints her eyes and looks at him.

  
“Lucifer?” she asks.

  
He smiles and chuckles.

  
“Is that who you want me to be?” he asks, approaching her slowly, a smooth, almost snake-like slither in his walk. The closer he gets though, the more wrong it feels. She begins to move away from him on the couch. He stops in his tracks.

  
“I see,” he says, as he stops and just stands there. He turns and grabs the chair he was sitting in, before placing it where he stands and taking a seat, “I can wait until you are ready.”

  
“Ready for what?” she asks.

  
He doesn’t respond, but the grin on his face deepens then disappears as if all happiness in him had faded.

“I want you to know; I’m a police officer.” She says, “you don’t want to harm me.”

  
He laughs again then crosses his legs.

  
“I assure you I am not here to harm you, only offer you ... something grand.”

  
She squints her eyes.

  
“You want to make a deal?”

  
_Are we sure this isn’t Lucifer?_

  
“You’ve heard the term quid pro quo? I get what I want; you get what you want. Everyone is happy.”

  
“What do you want?” she asks.

  
He smiles.

  
“What do you want?” he asks in response, “or more like … who?”

  
Chloe shakes her head, a lightness returning to her feet. She stands and walks around the couch.

  
“I’m sorry but, I don’t know who you are. I think it’s best you leave.”

Her head turns to Trixie’s bedroom to see it empty. Not only empty but nonexistent. It's like her room has faded into nothing but darkness. She stares into it, in awe and confusion.

  
He sighs.

  
“Oh dear, it seems we’ve run out of time,” he says, with a heaviness in his voice.

  
She turns to him.

  
“What … what is happening?” she says.

  
“Your brain is starting to figure it out,” he says.

  
She looks at him oddly, and he sighs again, this time annoyed.

  
“You’re dreaming,” he says bluntly.

  
“So how about that deal?” he asks again, this time an impatience in his voice.

  
“I … I don’t understand. What do you want? If this is a dream, then none of this is real.”

  
“Even dreams have an element of truth to them. So, what say you?”

  
“What is the deal?” she asks.

  
He stands tall now, seemingly taller than before. He is utterly imposing now, the alarms in her body are telling her to run, but she can’t seem to find the urgency. There is something that wants her to hear what he has to say. Call it a mortal curiosity.

  
“What do you want?” she asks again.

  
“I want my freedom,” he says, silently, the anger in his voice breaking into sadness.

  
She almost feels bad for him, but at the same time, she can’t feel anything. The kitchen breaks off into nothingness, and soon it’s just her and him standing in an empty white room. It’s clean and sterile yet comforting and warm.

  
“And if you won't give it to me willingly,” he continues, his eyes flickering as he too begins to fade into nothingness, “I will take it by force.”

  
She watches as the man, the apparition in front of her fades away. He’s gone, but she can still feel him watching her, somehow. She is left there, in an empty white room. No matter which way she turns, there is whiteness.

  
“Mommy?” a voice echoes in her head. She looks around. It sounds like Trixie.

  
“Trixie?” she says.

  
“Mommy, look what I made today,” the voice continues.

  
\--

  
“Mommy?” Trixie says, leaning over her sleeping Mother. Chloe’s eyes gently open and focus on Trixie. She looks confused at first, before sitting up and looking around. The sun is still shining outside, and birds are still chirping.

She finally looks at Trixie then at the pink backpack she has thrown on the kitchen table.

  
“What time is it Monkey?” she asks, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

  
“I don’t know.” She says with a shrug.

  
“Did you just get home from school?” Chloe asks.

  
Trixie nods and then heads back to her backpack.

  
School gets out at 2:30 p.m., Chloe thinks to herself, so it must be around 3:00 now. Which means she slept for five hours. Chloe stretches then looks around. She still felt tired, but a gnawing in the back of her mind had dissipated. It was a start.

  
Trixie returns with a paper, a drawing she did in school. Chloe takes it and looks at it. She smiles.

  
“Wow,” she says, “this one is going on the fridge.”

Trixie smiles and runs off to her room to play. Chloe stands up, her feet light and airy. She heads over to the fridge, removes a magnet and places the paper under it. She stands back to look at the drawing then stretches. She stands there in silence for a moment. Her mind reeling from the slew of dreams she just had. She felt better, but why did she also feel like things were somehow getting worst?

  
\--

  
Lucifer paces in his penthouse, his phone in hand. He looks disheveled, and his penthouse doesn’t fare much better. On the coffee table are three open tomes, each turned to a separate page. It’s as if he has been scrolling page by page to find the answer to a question and he’s still come up empty.

  
He grunts in frustration and crosses over towards his bar to get himself a drink. Before he even touches the decanter, however, he feels a gust of wind followed by the worried voice of Amenadiel.

  
"It’s Ezria,” he says.

  
Lucifer turns around while pouring himself a drink.

  
“My day is going just great, thank you for your inquiry,” he says, bringing the glass up to his lips. He pauses. He was so lost in thought he hadn’t even heard what Amenadiel said.

  
“Ezria?” he repeats, making sure he heard correctly.

  
Amenadiel nods, “It took me a while to get it out of our crossroads friend, but nothing a few bottles of liquor and a couple hundred dollars wouldn't fix. You know how crossroads demons are. They see everything.”

  
Lucifer looks off into the distance. If Ezria escaped, there’s no telling what trouble he could be up to. Then it dawns on him; Andrews message.

  
“The first of the third works for the Shepard,” he says to himself.

  
“What?” Amenadiel asks.

  
“That’s the message. I didn’t understand what it meant, but …”

  
“Ezria was the first Angel to join you when you fell. A full third of the angels in heaven left when you fell,” he said.

  
“You know that’s not what happened,” Lucifer says, his eyes smoldering with that recognizable fire.

  
“You tried to take on Father, and for that, you were punished, let’s not rehash an old story here Luci, we need to find Ezria before he does something stupid.”

  
“He’s not going to go back willingly, “Lucifer says, again taking a sip and crossing over to his sofa, "Ezria never saw Hell as a welcomed change. Initially, sure, we were all angry, but then we realized the gift we had been given; even as pariahs. Not Ezria, he saw it as a punishment. He felt cast away much like I was."

  
“Then we’ll need to rip him from whatever mortal he’s attached himself to.”

  
“We can’t do that,” Lucifer says.

  
“Why not? One mortal to right a celestial wrong doesn’t seem like a large price to pay to keep Ezria under lock and key.”  
Lucifer sighs.

  
“We don't even know if it was him who killed the messenger."

"It doesn't matter, this is Ezria we are talking about," Amenadiel says.

"I also have reason to believe he has selected Daniel as his vessel.”

  
Amenadiel puts his hands on his shoulder.

  
“This just keeps getting worse. Do you see now what happens when you aren’t there to rule?” Amenadiel throws his hands up in the air.

  
“It does get worse brother. Andrew is dead,” Lucifer says. Amenadiel turns to him, a look of confusion on his face.

  
“And he didn’t just die Amenadiel. He was murdered.”

  
Amenadiel gives Lucifer a look, his eyebrows raised in shock.

  
“What? What do you mean murdered? Who?” He says striding with purpose towards Lucifer.

  
“If I knew that brother, I wouldn’t be figuratively defecating myself right now,” he says, setting the glass down on coffee table and the seat.

  
“Maybe you’re mistaken,” Amenadiel says, “maybe ... maybe it was natural causes? Messengers are still mortal.”

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadiel and shakes his head.

  
“No signs of injury and an autopsy was performed… it was clean. No immediate cause of death.” He says.

  
Amenadiel stares at him. They lock eyes, both understanding what that means.

  
“Hellhounds,” Amenadiel says.

  
Lucifer nods, “using my own against me,” he scoffs and takes a sip of his drink.

  
“Luci this is bad. Do you remember what happened to Sodom? Gemorrah?”

  
Lucifer picks his drink up and downs it. He stands and crosses to the bar to refill.

  
“Oh save it, brother, I was there. We were all there. Remember? He made us watch!”

  
“Then you understand what will happen to this city if we don’t find who did this.”

  
Lucifer takes a drink, “I know.”

  
“What will happen to the people inside of this city if we -” he continues, his speech quick and urgent.

  
“I know!” Lucifer says, his voice loud enough to shake the walls.

Amandiel backs off. He lets go a grunt and begins to pace inside of the living room himself. They pace in silence, each lost in their own thought.  
Amenadiel, wondering if he could bargain with the silver city and give them more time to find the culprit; maybe a few days. Lucifer and his mind on Daniel.

If Daniel was really chosen by Ezria, then anyone who had contact with him will be in Danger. He had to protect Chloe and the offspring. And what about Andrew? He had only become a messenger recently; he had so much … Lucifer pauses. His brows scrunch up like he’s had a thought and he turns to Amenadiel who notices the look behind his eyes. He is willing to grab on to whatever idea Lucifer has. Lucifer thinks.  
Andrew was a messenger, which meant he was probably delivering a message. He needed to find out what that message was and who it was intended for.

  
"I need to find out what he was delivering," Lucifer says.

  
"Of course, his last message might be a clue to..., " Amenadiel pauses. He looks at Lucifer.

  
Lucifer pulls out his phone and dials a number. He put the phone up to his ear.

  
“Who are you calling?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer doesn’t reply, he just waits. A click on the other line.

  
“Mazikeeen, Darling. It seems your particular demon torturing skills are needed.” He says. He waits momentarily, listening intently.

  
“I understand you’re on a hunt,” he says, “but this is a matter of urgent….” He stops. She is cutting him off. 

  
Amenadiel steps forward and reaches his hand out, asking Lucifer to give him the phone. Lucifer holds his hand out suggesting he has this under control.

  
“A messenger is dead.” He says bluntly — a pause on the other line.

  
“No, Hellhounds.” He says again — another pause.

  
“Excellent.” He says before hanging up and putting the phone in his pocket. Amenadiel looks at him.

  
“what did she say?” he asks.

  
“She’s on her way.”

  
Amenadiel sighs then put his hands on his hips.

  
“So, what now? Do we just wait? I don’t understand; what is the plan here?”

  
Lucifer takes a large gulp of his drink, finishing the liquid in the glass.

  
“You have a talent for finding demons,” Lucifer says, “where is our crossroads friend now?”

  
 “It might take me a few hours to find him, but I will find him.” He says.

  
“Good. I’ll go see if I can find out what message got our poor friend killed,” Lucifer says grabbing his jacket off the nearby sofa.

Amenadiel smiles to himself. As much as he hated to admit that being on Earth was helpful, maybe it was changing Lucifer for the better.

Lucifer catches his smile and grumbles, "What is so funny?" he asks.

"You said friend," he says, "You called Andrew your friend." Lucifer raises his head and stares off into the distance for a moment.

"Ah, so I did," he says, a feeling of sadness washing over him ...but there is something else there. Something he can't quote pinpoint.

  
“Wait, what is the plan here?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer turns to him, “The last message I received said the first of the third works for The Shepard. We already know the first of the third is Ezria, but we don’t know how the Shepard is.”

  
“And you think the crossroads demon knows who this Shepard person is?”

  
“You said it yourself; crossroads demons see everything.”

  
Amenadiel nods and Lucifer steps into the elevator. The doors close behind him.

  
\---

  
Lucifer walks into the precinct and strolls past Chloe’s empty desk. He looks at it momentarily, taking a mental note that he still needs to contact her. He opens up his phone; the time reads 2:00 p.m. He begins to type out a message to her when Ella notices him through the window of her lab. She rushes out to greet him.

  
“Hey,” she says.

  
Lucifer is surprised by her presence and puts the phone away leaving his message unsent.

  
“Ah, Ms. Lopez, just the person I wanted to see.”

  
“Look, Lucifer I’m really sorry about this morning. I …I’m sorry for your loss.”

  
“Yes well, humans die every day. No point in crying over spilled milk, right?”

  
She reaches up and rests her hand on his shoulder, “You don’t need to be strong for me.” She says before leaning in and hugging him. He looks around, clearly uncomfortable by this unplanned affection. What is it with humans and emotional outburst?

  
“Uhm, Ms. Lopez,” he says, gently prying her from his body, “I was wondering if I could learn more about Andrews death? What you’ve gathered so far?”

  
She pulls completely away from him and stares up towards him suspiciously.

  
“Oh, I don’t know Lucifer...”

  
“I understand your hesitation but, It’s of great importance.”

  
She sighs and looks around before ushering Lucifer into her lab and closing the door behind her.

  
“There are still some things that we don’t know, and we still don’t have a cause of death, but we do have details about the area in which he was found.”

  
“Such as?” Lucifer says, gathering around her computer screen. She tries to quickly hide the photos of his face, but when they won’t minimize she apologetically glances at him. He ignores her look and instead focus on the screen.

  
“He was found in an alley of a commercial area with little foot or vehicle traffic. Residue on his clothing suggests he traveled by foot before reaching the area where he was found.”

  
Ella pulls up a road map of the area in question. It has highlighted areas indicating a possible route Andrew took the night of his death. She notes some key areas on the map.

  
“It looks as though he took great care to avoid heavily populated areas, almost as if he didn’t want to be seen,” she says.

  
Lucifer nods. Messengers delivering a message can see and hear things the average mortal cannot. He would have hidden from anyone or anything out that night.

  
“Then he ends here, it’s where we found his body,” she says pointing out the alley beside a middle eastern restaurant.

  
Lucifer nods. Whoever he had a message for must have been in that alley.

  
“What is your best estimate on time of death?” Lucifer asks.

  
“Oh,” Ella says, reaching for a clipboard on her desk, “Estimated time of death would be between three and four in the morning.”

  
Lucifer hums and starts to rock on his heels. His head spinning with more questions than answers. He was delivering a message to someone in an alley at four in the morning. He pauses.   
Could it have been a trap? Or was it something about the message? He had to find out what that message was.

  
“Where are they keeping his body?” Lucifer asks.

  
Ella looks at him, a look that suggests she is beginning to think his questioning isn’t just about closure.

  
“I’d like to see him one last time,” Lucifer says. Ella reluctantly nods then clicks on a tab on her computer.

  
“Uhm, it looks like he is still at Green Meadows Funeral Home.” She says, “and I really am sorry about-“

  
She turns to speak with Lucifer, but before she can, he’s already gone. She turns her head, confused at his absence and catches the Lieutenant watching her. He beckons her to his office and she curses under her breath.

  
\--

  
Lucifer strolls into Green Meadows Funeral Home; his hands tucked comfortably in his pocket. A man in a suit greets him as he walks in.

  
“Good Evening, How can I be of service to you?”

  
Lucifer looks him up and down, a pleased smile on his face.

  
“Service? Wow, do you treat everyone like this or just the devil?” he smiles.

  
The man looks at him confused, not quite sure what he is saying.

  
“Right,” Lucifer says, understanding his joke did not land as he intended, “I’m here to see an old friend of mine, or … what is left of him. The name is Andrew McClellan.”

  
The man smiles an apologetic smile and reaches for a clipboard on a nearby stand. He shuffles through it for a moment, then returns it to its resting place.

  
“My apologies for your loss sir, but his funeral isn’t until this weekend, and we’ve yet to prepare the body. You’ll have to come back during the funeral.”

  
Lucifer scoffs, “I don’t have that kind of time …”

  
He looks at the man and searches his body for a name tag. The man realizes what he is doing and offers a name, “Wesley.”

  
“Wesley!” Lucifer says, “I’m on a strict timeline here, and I need to speak with Andrew now.”

  
The man looks confused again, “Speak with? Sir … I’m sorry for your loss but ...”

  
The man turns to a gentleman that stands near a double door that leads to the back. They meet eyes, and he moves up, next to Wesley.

  
“I think, you should step outside Sir. We are having a service here in a few minutes and …I think it’s best if you leave.”

  
Lucifer catches eyes with Wesley, then the man that comes to stand behind him. Lucifer smiles to himself.

  
“Tell me Wesley, is that what you really want?”

  
Wesley looks at him, his eyebrows raised, “I’m pretty sure I’d like it if you left,” he says.

  
“Is that what you truly desire?” Lucifer says, his eyes widening and catching Wesley’s. Wesley stares into them, a blank expression falling over his face.

  
“I …”

  
“Yes?” Lucifer says, a grin coming over his face.

  
“I … I want to be a DJ.”

  
Lucifer stands tall and steps backward. He didn’t expect that at all. The man sees the look of confusion on his face and tries to explain.

  
“I’ve worked at this Funeral home for four years now, and it's depressing. I mean, I try everything to make people happy in their time of sadness but, everything just makes people sadder.”

  
The man behind him sighs and walks back to his post at the door.

  
“I just want to do something that makes people happy,” Wesley says. There is a moment of silence, and Wesley realizes what he just said.

  
“Oh god,” he says. Lucifer scoffs.

  
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I told you that. Don’t tell my boss, please? I love my job. I really do.”

  
Lucifer reaches into his pocket and pulls out a money clip. The man looks at it wearily.

  
“I’m sorry,” he begins to say, “ We don’t accept cash here.”

  
Lucifer presents him a business card that says LUX on it. He looks at it for a moment then back to Lucifer.

  
“You’re Lucifer Morningstar?” he says with awe.

  
“The one and only,” he smiles,” and if you let me see my friend, I’ll see what I can do about getting you a spot at my club.” On a light night of course.

  
The man smiles widely and puts the card in his pocket; he looks around for a moment.

  
“Okay, but only for a moment.” He says as he ushers lucifer past the double door and into a short corridor.

  
\--

  
The crossroads demon lays on a dirty mattress in an abandoned building, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looks bored, not only of his life but of the mortals he has made himself company with. The building looks like an old industrial loft and is scattered with garbage and random junkies going on their own mental adventures. Next, to him, a pale and thin woman sits on the mattress drawing marks on her skin with an old sharpie marker.

  
“When is Rex going to get here?” she asks, “I been waiting for my fix for two hours now.”

  
He perches himself up on his shoulders, just enough for her to turn her head to him.

  
“Give it a rest Mary; he’ll be here when he gets there.“

  
“I’m just saying I been sitting here for too long. It doesn’t take that long to get the stuff. I know of three guys who could have gotten it to me already,” she says.

  
“So pay them, or shut up,” he says.

  
She tosses the sharpie at him and stands up.

  
“You’re a real asshole; you know that Ori?” She walks away, and he sighs and lays back down.

  
It was only a matter of time before he could go back home, and he could rid himself of this mortal stench.

  
He closes his eyes for a moment and tries to remember the smell of ash and fire. The sweet sound of the guiltless being tormented. He feels someone standing next to him and sighs.

  
“Mary, I told you already. Just wai-“ he opens his eyes to see Amenadiel standing over him. His eyes widen with shock then fear as Amenadiel reaches down, grabs his collar with both hands and tosses him up into the air like a ragdoll. He hits the ceiling then crashes back down to the floor. Amenadiel grabs the back of his jacket, and he slips out.

  
“Wait!” wait!” he says, holding his hands out as Amenadiel tosses his jacket to the side.

  
“You don’t have to do this; I’ll tell you anything you want,” he says.

  
“You’ll talk,” he says, “you’ll talk until you beg us to stop.”

  
Amenadiel rushes him, and suddenly they are gone in the blink of an eye.

  
Nearby, a man still in a drug-induced haze opens his eyes and stares at the mattress where the crossroads demon just was. He could have sworn he heard something, but he’s too far gone to care. He closes his eyes and goes back to his haze.

  
\--

  
The door to the embalming room opens, and Lucifer steps in. He looks at Wesley for a moment then turns back to see two cold tables. One is empty, and the other has a body on it covered with a sheet. He slowly walks into the room and peers at the utensils on a metal tray. He wants to touch them but decides against it. Slowly he approaches the body and stands there.

  
He looks over it momentarily, preparing himself. He’s seen bodies several times, each in their own state of decay or post-mortem, but it wasn’t someone he knew like this. Sure, he didn’t know Andrew, but he was apart of his world. He could have been a brother. A much younger brother, one that he occasionally picked on and treated as a nuisance, but at the end of the day …he should have been safe. He should have been protected. Lucifer pauses, a feeling coming over him, something he had only felt that night …after Uriel.

  
He coughs, trying to clear his throat of this emotion and takes a deep breath before reaching up and peeling the sheet back. It was Andrew. He’d recognize that shaggy blonde hair anywhere.

  
“Oh Andrew,” he says, a sadness in his voice. He pauses and just stares at him. He looked peaceful and rested. He sighs. No more stalling, time to get down to business.

  
“Speak,” he says, but there is nothing. Just stillness. Maybe he was too late? Maybe the time had passed for him to be used as a messenger?

  
“Speak,” he says again, this time with more vibrato in his voice.

  
Andrew’s eyes pop open, a pure whiteness behind them. It takes Lucifer back for a second, but he catches himself. Andrews' mouth moves and there is sound coming out, but the voice is weak with zero air in his lungs. Lucifer leans down and puts his ear to Andrew’s mouth.

  
“Again,” he says.

  
“pacem aeternam,” his body whispers out. Eternal peace, it meant Andrews body was no longer a host for the messenger.

  
“and what of your last message?” he asks.

  
“electi,” he whispers back.

He sighs and stands up. He was too late. Whatever message Andrew was delivering has changed hosts. Which means it wasn’t delivered. His target wasn’t whoever sent the hounds to kill him in the alley. But it meant they knew how messengers work, the paths they take. This was either a very clever mortal or not a mortal at all. Lucifer’s eyes widen with this realization. What did this mean? If this person had control over enough hell hounds to kill a messenger, they could kill anyone. He needed to protect Chloe, and there is only one thing that can kill – or at least frighten – a hellhound.

  
A gentle knock on the door, and Wesley peeps in.

  
“I’m sorry to rush your …process, but we really need to wrap this up. I could get in trouble as it is.”

  
Lucifer nods and Wesley closes the door.

  
Lucifer turns back to Andrew; his eyes still vivid white. He smiles a solemn smile, then manages to croak out the word, “Go.”

  
Suddenly Andrews' eyes pop back to their normal color. His once blue eyes now covered in a sheen of white as his lenses begin to decay. There is nothing behind those eyes. Lucifer closes his eyes and sighs before recovering his face with the sheet.

  
“I will punish whoever did this,” he says, “and they will suffer greatly.”

  
Lucifer’s phone rings and he answers it. It’s Amenadiel.

  
“We have our friend,” he says.

  
“Excellent,” Lucifer replies, “and what of Maze?”

  
A sharp scream in the background followed by a light-hearted chuckle is heard from the other line. It answers Lucifer’s question.

  
“She’s …very thorough,” Amenadiel says.

  
“Good, let me know if anything changes.”

  
“Luci, aren’t you going to be here? We might need your help.”

  
“I wll be there shortly, I just ... I have something I need to do.” He says turning to look at the covered body.

  
\--

  
Chloe sits at her dining room table with Trixie. She is helping her finish up the last section of her homework when the doorbell rings.

  
“Okay monkey,” she says, “That’s enough for tonight. Go get ready for bed.”

  
Trixie begins to whine, but Chloe gives her this stern look. She frowns and walks angrily to her bedroom. Chloe shakes her head. She has no idea what she is going to do when that one becomes a teenager. Sighing, she gets up to answer the door only to find Lucifer there. Of course, it’s Lucifer. He stands there, a cheeky smile on his face and his hands behind his back like he is hiding something.

  
She leans up against the doorframe, tired from a long day and ready to finally get a good night’s rest.  
Lucifer for a moment forgets why he is there and instead basks in the sight of Chloe. Her hair gently cascades across her face. She looked tired, he notes, more so than she had previous days.

  
“How are you feeling?” he asks.

  
She gives him a soft smile and pushes herself slightly off the door frame.

  
“Are you worried about me?” she says jokingly, finding his concern sweet.

  
“I just … I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  
She smiles and nods before moving out the way, silently inviting him in.

  
“I, I would normally come in but … I have some things to attend to. I just wanted to come and give you this.”

  
He finally takes his hands from behind his back. Chloe is shocked to find him holding a puppy. It looks at her oddly then growls. Lucifer pets the dog to calm him.

  
“Enough, Cassius.”

  
Chloe looks behind her to make sure Trixie doesn’t see, then steps outside, gently shutting the door behind her.

  
“What is that?” she says.

  
“It’s a puppy,” Lucifer says.

  
“Lucifer, I’m glad you’re finally listening to me when I say things, but … this isn’t happening,” she says, pointing at the dog.

  
“Trixie isn’t old enough for a dog,” She says, looking down at the puppy who continues to stare at her warily.

  
“I understand Detective,” he says, “but recent events have led me to believe I need to take better precautions of ensuring you and the offspring’s safety. Hence, puppy.”

  
Chloe raises her hand to her forehead, trying to grasp everything that she wants to dissect about what Lucifer just said.

  
“Okay, first of all …I highly doubt a puppy will protect me; second, I don’t need your protection.”

  
“Yes, you do,” Lucifer says.

  
Lucifer stares at her. He doesn’t understand why she is so upset. Furthermore, he doesn’t understand why she is putting up such resistance to the idea.

  
“There is nothing in this world that a puppy can protect me from,” she says softly, “besides. I have a gun.”

  
“Detective,” he begins to say.

  
“No Lucifer, I am her mother and Dan is her father, and we’ve decided she’s not ready for this responsibility yet.”

  
“Detective,” Lucifer says calmly, “I understand you are upset by what seems to be an overruling of your parental responsibilities with the offspring.”

  
She nods, “for starters, yes.”

  
“But this puppy is not for your offspring nor am I attempting to assume the role of a parental figure to your offspring. It is simply for your home. It will protect you from all manner of threat, both mortal and immortal.

  
Chloe chuckles, “Lucifer, it’s a puppy.”

  
“It’s a hellhound Detective.”

  
Chloe pauses, looks down at the dog, then back to Lucifer.

  
“A hellhound?”

  
“Yes, hell’s most loyal companion.”

  
She shakes her head and steps away from him, “Like …a demon dog?”

  
Lucifer pauses. He had never heard it put that way before.

  
“Well, I guess that’s one way to call them, but hellhound sounds less…”

  
“ridiculous? Scary? Frightening? Insane? Stop me when you find a word that fits,” she says.

  
“Detective, “ he says in a voice that demands attention, but in the way, only she would pay attention to, “I wish I could explain to you how much I need you to take Cassius from me. Unfortunately, time is not something I have the fortune of having on my side.”

  
“I don’t understand,” Chloe said.

  
He smiles, “I know, and in due time I will explain, but for now… I need you to trust me.”

  
They stare at one another momentarily into the depth of one another’s eyes. If the world were to disappear at that moment, they wouldn’t even notice. She sighs and rolls her eyes, leaning up against the door frame.

  
“Lucifer,” she says, in a tone that suggests she thinks it's unfair for him to pull the trust card.

  
“Have faith in me, Detective,” he says. She sighs again and shakes her head. Why does he always put her in these positions? Why can she never say no to him?

  
“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” she says solemnly, trying to move him one last time already knowing he is immovable.

  
“Trixie is too young, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about … hellhounds.”

  
Lucifer smiles, “He has more training than any human on earth. He will do all the work. You won’t even notice he is here.”

  
Chloe sighs reluctantly then turns around and opens the door. Lucifer smiles and sets the puppy down. It looks up at him momentarily, wary of what to do. Lucifer raises his hand and gestures for it to go inside. He does as he is told.

  
Lucifer turns to Chloe with a pleased look on his face. She is obviously still wary of the idea.

  
“I know you don’t want my protection,” he says, “and that’s fine. But at least let me offer it to your offspring. If something happened to her, I’d feel …” he pauses, trying to find the word.

  
She watches him, her eyes squinting again as if she were attempting to figure out a puzzle. It was almost as if he had never experienced these emotions before.

  
“Guilty?” she suggests.

  
Lucifer scoffs at her.

  
“You humans and your guilt.  I’ve done nothing wrong.” He says.

  
“Guilt isn’t always about what you’ve done Lucifer; sometimes it’s about what you didn’t do.”

  
Lucifer looks at her oddly.

  
Just then, a squeal comes from inside. They turn to watch Trixie run-up to the puppy, who now wags its tail happily. She kneels down and rubs its fur. She looks up to see Lucifer and Chloe standing there. Chloe has a deep smile on her face while Lucifer seems moderately pleased with himself.

  
“It’s a puppy!” she screams with delight. Chloe laughs, “It is monkey.”

  
“Can we keep him mommy?” she says, fighting off the puppy that is happily jumping into her arms. Chloe turns back to Lucifer who gives her a look. She sighs.

  
“Yes Monkey,” she says, in a resigned voice.

  
Trixie laughs with delight as the puppy starts to lick her face. Chloe turns to Lucifer and silently says, “If this doesn’t work out, you’re taking him back.”

  
Lucifer nods, “with pleasure. He was always one of my favorites.”

  
“Mommy, can we name him bubbles?” Trixie says.

  
Lucifer turns from Chloe and looks at Trixie.

  
“His name is Cassius, and he is a very old …”

  
“yes, you can Monkey,” Chloe says, stepping forward from the doorway, a playful look in her eyes, “You can name him whatever you want. “

  
Lucifer sighs and turns to Cassius, “Sorry, I’m afraid this must be our concession, Cassius.”

  
Chloe laughs. Maybe this won’t be too bad, she thinks. She turns, ready to offer Lucifer a drink, only to see him still standing in the open doorway. She looks at him oddly. He recognizes that look and frowns.

  
“Unfortunately, I do have to go.” He says, “I was not lying when I said I didn’t have time to explain.”

  
She nods, “You would never lie to me.”

  
“Never.” He replies.

  
She lets go a soft smile and watches momentarily as he turns to leave before closing the door behind him.

  
\--

  
Lucifer walks down the driveway of Chloe’s home, his brain dancing with thoughts. Things he wants to think about but can’t. There is no time. If he doesn’t find Andrews killer – and soon – who knows what the Silver City will send, or who. He wasn’t too fond of mortals either but, he had become fond of a few of them, and they were all too close to take that chance. He reaches out to open his car door when he pauses.

  
His raises his head. It wasn’t a feeling or a scent, but a knowledge that entered his mind. He had no questions or no unanswered thoughts; it was all there.

  
His chest tightens, and he turns around to see his brother – Michael – standing proudly in the middle of the empty street. He is donned in Roman armor; the kind that hadn’t been worn for centuries. Attached to his hip is a blade forged in the light of the heavens. They stare at one another, taking in each other’s presence; both fully aware they hadn’t laid eyes on each other since before the fall; since before Michael had launched him out of the heavens and cast him to the underworld.

 

 

 


	7. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief flashback on Lucifer's fall.

Inside the Silver City’s observatory, a large room with a balcony that opens to an expanse of endless stars, a young Samael stands precariously on the balcony’s edge; his wings proud and free and his gaze turned towards the stars.

  
His wings are small on him and spotted like that of a juvenile bird. Still, they are powerful and could lift him off the ground with ease. He continues to stare out at the night sky. His eye scanning back and forth as he admires the stars like a painter admires his finest work. He is young, barely a teenager it seems. His hair is dark and obscenely curly; his frame is thin and boyish. It’s clear he’s never done a day of hard work in his life, nor does he expect to.

  
He is adjusting the constellations when a door behind him opens, and his older brothers Michael and Jeremiah walk in. Michael, who looks to be in his late 20’s, is toned and muscled. He wears a white robe tied loosely around his frame, but the blade that dangles from his waist and his air of authority give a clue as to his true position in the silver city.

  
“Come now brother,” Michael says to Jeremiah, “everyone has their own duties yet you are the only one requesting assistance. ”

  
“Father requested they be done soon,” Jeremiah says,” in time for the first dawn. There are too many for me alone.”

  
Michael sighs and turns to see Samael perches on the edge of the balcony. He smiles an turns back to Jeremiah.

  
“Very well, find the others and request they assist you with their assignments, my orders.”

  
Jeremiah nods and exits. Michael then turns his attention towards the balcony, where Samael still looks on. He smiles, his eyes are deep with love.

  
“Are you not finished Samael?” he asks playfully as he walks up to the balcony, “I imagine you’d be done by now.”

  
Samael turns to him, and a smile falls across his face as if he had just seen his most favorite person in all the universe. He hops down off the balcony and stands proud; wanting Michael to notice what he has done.

  
“It is wonderful, is it not?” he asks.

  
Michael approaches the balcony and stares out into the sky. He smiles and turns to Samael. He places a hand on Samael’s shoulder.

  
“It is beautiful, Samael,” he says, “Father will be pleased.”

  
Samael nods and smiles. Michael notices patterns within the stars.

  
“You’ve made images,” he’s said, not surprised that Samael would add hidden objects within the stars. It was in the spirit of what Father wanted at least. It what Samael had always been best at, bending the rules

  
“I did,” he says, happy that Michael had noticed. He points out one in particular and says, “that one is you.”

  
Michael turns to the star pattern and tilts his head. He chuckles to himself and ruffles Samael’s hair.

  
“But I don’t carry a bow,” he says.

  
Samael turns to the stars, a look of confusion on his face then horror as he realizes his mistake.

  
Michael chuckles as Samael climbs on the balcony, ready to move the stars again.

  
“Leave it Samael,” he says, “I like it.”

  
Samael looks at him and is not pleased with his request. If it were anyone else, he’d fix it anyway, but for Michael, he would leave it.

  
“The mortals will like it I am sure,” Michael says.

  
“Mortals?” he asks, confused. The thought hadn’t occurred to him that he had been asked to create the night sky for anyone but those that reside in the Silver City. What even is a mortal?

  
Michael nods and turns to Samael.

  
“Yes, Samael. We are all blessed with eternal life and a home here in the Silver City. We are born here, and here we will stay for all of the time and beyond. Father’s mortals will be born on earth,” he says, turning back to the night sky, “under the stars. There, they will die and be reborn here.”

  
Death, Samael thinks.

  
“But why?” Samael asks.

  
“Because they will be given something we do not have and in exchange, they must prove themselves.”

  
“Will we get to visit earth?” he asks.

  
Michael smiles, “some of us, sometimes,” he says.

  
Samael turns to the stars. They silently look on, enjoying the newly formed celestial sky.

  
“What shall I do next?” Samael asks.

  
Michael smiles and rustles his hair again, “you must do your studies young one. You have much to learn.”

  
Michael begins to walk away, and Samael turns to him.

  
“and after that?” he asks.

  
Michael pauses, he doesn’t turn around to Samael.

  
“Whatever it may be, “he says, “I am sure it is part of Father’s plan.”

  
Samael smiles and turns back to watch his sky. Michael exits the room, a sudden solemnness to his eyes.

  
\--

  
At a time much later, Samael storms into the observatory. Samael is older now, and his wings are larger on his back. He looks to be in his late teens and gone are the spots on his feathers. A few strands of hair grow faintly on his face, and his voice is deeper and resonates solidly in the room. He argues loudly with another angel as he enters. He grabs a book off the table nearby and tosses it across the room.

  
“I will not! Let Ezria do it! He is more fit to walk amongst the demons than I!”

  
“Calm down Samael,” the angel says, noticing a fire lighting in his eyes, “You know what happens when you get upset.”

  
“Calm down? How can I calm down? You aren’t the one Father is trying to send to the underworld. He’s throwing me away like he’s done with all his failed experiments.”

  
“You know that’s not what he is doing,” the angel says.

  
“How can you claim to know his will?” Samael asks.

  
“And who are you to go against it?” the angel asks sharply in return. The silence between them is thick. Samael knows he can’t answer without causing more trouble. He grunts and turns around, kicking a vase over and breaking it into pieces.

  
“Let him send someone else,” Samael says, “I am not a soldier. I am not fit to run an army.”

  
“It can only be you Samael, it must be the light bringer,” the angel says stepping calmly towards him.

  
“But why?!” he asks again, a confused - but more so hurt - rage in his voice.

  
“Because you decorated the sky!” the angel responds. Samael turns to the night sky, confused.

  
The angel reads his confusion and sighs.

  
“Only you, the one who decorated the stars … the one who bottled the fire of the sun, can corral the undeserving of the underworld to do Father’s bidding. It has to be you Samael.”

  
Samael walks towards the balcony, looking at the night sky for the same sense of awe. But, it was never about the sky; it was always about proving a point. He could control the very flames of stars. He could light that fire within himself, and it was that fire that would consume and purify the underworld for mortals. A sadness overwhelms him.

_Was his whole life a lie?_

  
“It seems unfit to punish me for something I have no control over,” he says solemnly, “I want to stay up here, with my family.”

  
“It is not a punishment Samael, you’ve been given a great task. Father would trust no one else but you.”

  
Samael grunts and crosses his arms. He leans gently against the railing of the balcony. The angel walks up to him and leans next to him. They sit silently for a moment.

  
“You won’t be alone, “the angel says, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Ezria will be with you as your captain.”

  
Samael scoffs and tosses his hand off his shoulder, ”Ezria and I don’t belong in the same unit, yet alone room. He does nothing but cause trouble.”

  
“It's almost like you were created at the same time,“ the angel says, a slight smile on his face. Samael turns to him, a light beginning to flicker in his eyes again. He doesn’t find this humorous.

  
“You find this entertaining?” he asks, “that I will be forced to watch over mortals for eternity instead of residing here as the other angels do?”

  
“You can visit any time you like, “the angel says, “that is why you and Ezria will go together. While one leads, the other will be here, with us.”

  
“And what if I decide never to go back?” Samael asks.

  
The angel chuckles thinking it a joke that an angel would make their own decision. When he sees that Samael isn’t laughing a look of horror follows his look of confusion.

  
“It is not for you to decide, Samael.”

  
Samael rolls his eyes and turns towards the sky. He remembers the day he made those stars, how happy he was. Now the Silver City felt like a prison. Why couldn’t he make his own choices like the mortals could?

  
\--

  
Later, in this same room, it is quiet and still. Again, the light from the stars illuminates the room. Suddenly, the door bursts open and Samael goes sliding across the floor leaving a visible trail of blood behind him. Michael then enters the room, standing tall and strong. He is now donned in full romanesque armor. He steps forward, blood trickling from his blade.

Samael manages to slit up slightly, holding a bleeding wound from his arm. He looks up at his brother, and despite Michael being much older, they both look the same age. Michael hasn’t aged a single day, while Samael has grown a deep black beard. Still, when comparing the two it is clear that Samael, with a thin and wispy frame, is no match for Michael.

  
“You are not a child anymore Samael!” Michael says, his voice dripping with anger and disgust,” You know better than to trifle with the order of things.”

  
In the doorway behind Micheal, more angels donned in Roman armor enter. They grip tight onto angels dressed only in white robes, trying hard to free themselves from their captors. Down the back of their previously white robes are red blood stains that indicate their wings have been severed from their body. Michael turns to his soldiers and nods.

They approach the balcony of the observatory and one by one they toss the wingless angels off the balcony. They fall and careen into the emptiness below them, their cries eventually echoing into nothingness. Samael watches on with horror. Michael turns back to Samael.

  
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, “to taint the minds of your brothers? Have them eternally punished?”

  
“You would do that to your own brothers?” he asks in horror.

  
Michael is unmoved. For a moment Samael believes he sees something in Michaels' eyes, regret or sadness, but Michael blinks and Samael is only met with the stone cold stare of decisiveness.

  
Samael shakes his head, “I did nothing wrong! I just wanted to have a choice, like the mortals.”

  
“We are not mortal!” Michael says, “we are better than mortals! We are the first in creation. We are the keepers of the silver city. Why would you want to be burdened with free will? Death? Choice?” he asks, confused at the stupidity of his younger brother.

  
Samael manages to get to his feet, he is rocky, but he manages to stand. He holds his bleeding arm, unable to move it in the manner he wishes. He looks down at it, blood trickling out like a small creek and dropping steadily onto the floor below him.

  
“I am the light bringer,” he says, “the morning star. I shouldn’t be relegated to walk amongst demons and mortals. I should be here, with my family!” he says.  
Michael sighs and hilts his blade.

  
“Brother, it is his will. You must trust in father’s plan.”

  
“To hell with fathers plan!” he says angrily.

Michael, in one swift motion, covers the distance between them and grabs Samael’s neck. He raises him off the floor.

  
“How dare you speak so cavalierly!” he says, “To hell with fathers plan? To hell?!”

Samael struggles beneath the strength of Michael’s grip. He brings his hands up, trying to pull his fingers from his neck. Blood stains Michael’s palm but his fingers do not budge. Even if one of his arms had not been injured, his grip is no match for Michael’s strength.

  
“Then so be it!” Michael says as he spreads his wings proudly. His wings are large and pure white, save for a few gold links on their edges. It can’t be certain whether they are armor or there for ornamentation. Michael flies off the balcony, hovering in the air with ease. There, they both float in space, Michael’s grip still strong around Samael’s neck. Out of instinct, Samael’s wings extend, ready to catch him. In comparison to Michael’s they are still small and seem weak.

  
“His will be done,” Michael says, reaching backward with his free hand and grabbing one of Samael’s wings, “and in time, you will understand.”

  
“Don’t,” Samael says, his voice barely managing to escape Michael’s grip. He still tries in vain to pull Michael’s hands away from his neck. It only stains his hands in blood more.

  
Michael twists his hand, breaking Samael’s wing. Samael screams out in pain and then again as he breaks the other.

  
Michael looks down into the emptiness beneath them; It’s a long way down from here. He turns back to Samael, a sadness in his eyes. Samael stares into them; it is the first time he’s seen it, and he stops struggling against Michael’s grip. It is terrifying, but also … there is a feeling in his chest, one he’s never felt before; a pain like any other.

  
“You made me do this,” Michael says.

  
“Don’t,” Samael pleads.

  
Tears begin to form in Michael’s eyes. He almost gives into the feeling bubbling up inside of him, and Samael can feel his grip loosening. Samael can grip Michael’s hand, a few fingers slipping between his hand and Samael’s neck. The moment is quick, however, as Michael snaps out of it and his eyes grow cold. Michael’s grip is loosening, but it starts to become too loose, and Samael feels himself slipping.

  
“Don’t, please,” Samael begs.

Michael lets go completely. Samael instinctively tries to grab his robe, but his arm is injured, and the pain makes it impossible to hold on. He slides down Michael’s body, grabbing onto his armor, trying to grasp for life. Michael plucks his fingers off him until Samael falls. He stares up, falling almost in slow motion, watching the balcony grow smaller and Michael disappears.

  
Suddenly, his whole body is on fire. There isn’t a single inch of him not covered in flame. His white robe disintegrates almost instantly leaving him naked. His flesh burns with the heat of a thousand suns. He screams out in pain as he falls, the heat only intensifying with his speed. He screams until his throat is raw and no more sound escapes.

Suddenly, he is beneath a frigid water that extinguishes the flame. It feels good, but only momentarily as his body is overtaken with a biting cold. He floats beneath the surface, his skin is raw and his wings broken. It is only now he understands why mortals sometimes beg for death. His lungs fill with water, and he begins to drown. He knows he can't die, but that doesn't stop it from hurting.

  
Samael stays underwater for what feels like a millennium. His lungs full of water, his skin both cold and hot at the same time. He can barely make out screams above the surface and wonders if he would have fared any better up there.

  
Suddenly a hand reaches for him, and he turns to see a young demon beneath the water. She grabs his body and drags him onto the banks of the lake. He gasps for air as she stands up and walks away. He looks up and sees an endless field of darkness and clouds where ash falls like a light and endless rain. Screams come and go as his brothers and sisters thrown down before him are disemboweled by starving demons. Immortal, they heal quickly, only to be disemboweled again. It’s an endless feast for these demons, who had no doubt been starved since their creation.

  
“This is going to hurt a bit,” the demon says, “but what do you care.”

He turns to see the demon brandishing a blade, ready to strike. She is very thin, emaciated even. Her skin drapes thinly over her bones, and her deep-set eyes hide within the folds of her face. When their eyes meet, she pauses, and her eyes go wide. She drops the knife and steps back away from him, her eyes wide with fear and joy.

  
He takes this moment to stand up, shakily at first. He is no soldier, but he will fight to avoid the fate of his brothers. He manages to bring his hands up, his skin aching and cracking with each movement. He looks at his hands. They are charred, red and covered in soot and dirt. The cracks from where he painfully bends his hands ooze with a warm, deep red blood. He spreads his still broken wings, now numb to their pain, and looks back at them. Feathers are missing, and the ones that are there are broken, charred and bloody.

  
He can feel a rage inside of him building. Is this what God has done to him? Was this his plan? And Michael, his own brother … the brother he had rearranged the stars for. This is how he is repaid? Cast aside like …like a demon? _Of all things_! The rage builds inside of him, past any point he has ever felt. To the point where all he can think about is his anger. It was as if it had taken him over and no other thought was important. Not the burns, not the cuts, not even the sounds of his brothers and sisters taking pleasure in their momentary relief. He turns back and looks out on the field. All the demons have stopped feeding and are looking right at him, their eyes wide.

  
“It’s so beautiful,” the demon says.

  
He turns to her; she looks on him with awe. He has their full attention. His mind reels and his wings raise with pride, cracking his charred skin even further. The pain is sickeningly sweet now as it only fuels his rage.  The rage fueled by betrayal, by anger and by an unimaginable sadness. Yes, he thinks, his mind foggy with revent, he could mold this new world into something of his own. He could take this fire and mold it into a star.

  
If they thought they could cast him away and have him cower, have him follow Father’s plan without question, they were wrong. No, he wasn’t a soldier, but in this new world … he could be king. He would raise an army, and he would be reunited with his family if not by choice ... then by force. He raises his head, his eyes bright with a neon blue flame. His wings spread farther, and despite being burned and bloodied, they lift him enough off the ground for him to see farther along the uneven and unbridled terrain. This terrain was ready to be carved and molded into something new. His eyes turn to back to the demon, she watches him patiently, like a dog waiting for a command.  
“What is your name?” he asks in a deep voice that now drips with authority.

  
“I am called Mazikeen,” she says.

  
He closes his eyes. He will remember that name. She pulled him out of the frozen lake. She emptied his lungs of water and breathed a new life into him. She will be his favorite. She will never want for food, nor drink again. When he opens them, she still waits.

  
“Bow to me,” he says, ready to test her loyalty.

  
She gets on one knee and bows. He looks at her pleased, then turns to find all the other demons are also bowing to him.

  
“Your will be done,” she asks, her voice pointed towards the ground.

  
He stares out onto the field. His eyes burn a bright and fiery blue; a hot, pure and unadulterated rage.

  
“Yes, it shall.” He says.

  
\--

  
Lucifer and Michael stand in silent on the sidewalk near Chloe’s home. Lucifer watches him, familiar with the face of the angel that cast him into hell so many millennia ago. As with angels, he hasn’t aged at all. He still looks as young as the day that he stared into Lucifer's eyes and dropped him from the heavens. The stories say he had fallen, called him the fallen angel, but that wasn’t true. Michael had the chance to bring him back onto the balcony, but he didn’t. Lucifer is knocked out of his trip down memory lane by the sound of a familiar voice.

  
“Hello Brother,” Michael says with a smirk. His voice is deep and warm. It fills Lucifer with nostalgia, and a sense of loss he hadn’t realized was there. The child in him wanted to smile and be joyful at his brother’s presence, but the pain of falling had taught him to be wary; to be distrustful.

  
“Michael,” he says, trying not to betray the ball of confusion in his gut. Michael never leaves the Silver City. If Michael is on earth, that could only mean one thing.  
“No doubt you understand why I am here,” he says cautiously.

  
Lucifer nods, “The Messenger.”

  
Michael crosses his arms and stands tall. He nods. He looks Lucifer up and down, a small smile coming to his face.

  
“You’ve not changed since I saw you last Samael,” Michael says with a smirk, a deep and haunting vibrato in his voice. He speaks with a familiarity that has been long lost.

  
Lucifer scoffs, “That’s not my name,” he says.

  
“What? Samael? Of course, it is, Father named you. I was there.”

  
“Things have changed,” Lucifer says, “but of course you of all angels would know that.”

  
“Don’t tell me you are still upset about falling?” he says, a tone to suggest that was old news.

  
“You dropped me!” Lucifer says, anger rising in his voice.

  
“and you forced my hand, brother," Michael replies, "If we are going to rehash history, let’s start with where you led a rebellion against father,” he says.

  
“I did no such thing, and you know it. I simply asked to have a choice.”

  
“And I had no choice,” Michael says.

  
“Wrong brother!” Lucifer says, “You had a choice, and you chose to betray me.”

  
“I’m not here to discuss the past Samael-“ Michael says.

  
“That is not my name!” Lucifer says, the anger sticking to his words.

  
“I’m here to warn you brother,” Michael continues. Lucifer pauses. _Warn him?_

  
“Of what?” Lucifer says, steeling his frame and standing his ground.

  
“Word has reached the city of a messengers death. You should know more of anyone what happens when the decree is broken.”

  
Lucifer nods, “that situation is being handled.”

  
“Oh, is it?” he says, a curious look on his face.

  
“Yes, so I do thank you for visiting the city of Fallen Angels, your postcard is in the mail, but I’d like it very much if you would climb back on your Pegasus and return to the city to do whatever daddy says,”

  
Michael chuckles to himself, “Same old Samael. Stubborn.” He says.

  
The fire in Lucifer’s eyes ignite, and he begins to say something when Michael cuts him off.

“I chose to come here as a courtesy to you, brother. It is an olive branch I could have chosen not to bestow.”

  
“We both know you did not choose, Michael,” Lucifer says. Michael smiles and nods. There is a tense silence between them as Michael looks up into the night sky – or what is left of it.

  
If Michael is here, it is because father _wants_ him to be. He isn’t warning out of the kindness of his heart, but rather order from up high. But … why would a father want to warn him? Or was this another one of his games?

  
“I am forming an army. Within 48 mortal hours, we will be ready to exact our punishment. So, whatever you are handling, I would suggest you handle it quickly.”

  
Michael turns his head to Chloe’s home and stares onward. This catches Lucifer’s attention. There is something curious about it. He gets another feeling in the pit of his gut, and a hot wave runs over him like a secret was on the verge of being discovered. Michael has that look on his face a look Lucifer recognizes. Michael wants to say something but isn’t sure he should. Michael nods to himself, almost concluding, then he turns back to Lucifer. He chuckles as he sees the look Lucifer is giving him.

  
_Same old Samael_ , he thinks. He glances upwards towards the stars and sighs. His posture relaxes, and he stands casually. It sets Lucifer at slight ease, but then that feeling of sadness comes back to him.

  
“It is truly sad what these mortals have done to block out your creation,” Michael says, staring up at the night sky.

Lucifer’s eyes drift upward, finally leaving Michael. They both stare at what little bits of the night sky they can see through the bright lights of Los Angeles. It's a comforting moment. Almost at the same time, their eyes drift downward and meet. There is much unsaid there and it makes them uncomfortable. Michael stands back tall and proud.

  
“48 hours,” he says.

  
With that, Michael disappears in one fell swoop, the wind from his wings ruffles a few unusually loose strands of hair on Lucifer’s head. Lucifer lets out a sigh, almost as if he had been holding his breath that entire time.

  
He turns towards Chloe's house. The lights are off, and it seems both her and the offspring have gone to sleep. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and quickly dials Amenadial and waits. When the phone clicks, he simply says, “It's Michael.”


	8. Pink Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is on the case of tracking down his brother, meanwhile under his nose things with Chloe get worst.

It’s morning in the Decker house, and everything is silent. The sun is barely up, and Chloe’s room is still dim and comfortable. In her bed, beneath warm covers, she sleeps peacefully. Suddenly the alarm clock switches to 7:30 a.m. and the radio blares to life. She groans as she is woken up and shifts her glance towards the clock. She blinks, trying to get the sleep out of her eyes long enough to read the time. She reaches her arm over and smacks the alarm, and the radio goes quiet. She sighs and adjusts herself in bed. Just five more minutes.

  
She lays there momentarily, thinking about getting up. She hadn’t slept in so many days she felt like her body was playing catch-up.

  
Suddenly the alarm goes off again, this time louder. She peeks her eyes over to the clock. The time still reads 7:30 a.m. She stares at it for a second. _Didn’t she just turn that off?_ She reaches her arm out and smacks it again, plunging the room into silence once more. She sighs once more before turning over and pulling the blanket closer to her body. Maybe she should call in sick again today? She wasn’t doing anything but deskwork, and she could use the sleep.

  
Then, yet again, the alarm clock goes off and the sound of morning radio fills the room. She opens her eyes, well aware that something is not quite right, and turns around. There, sitting in a chair in the corner of her bedroom is a dark figure.

  
She looks at him oddly as though her eyes were trying to adjust and her brain was trying to dissect what she was seeing. He leans forward and turns the alarm off again.

  
“I’m not going away Chloe,” the figure says. It’s the man from her dreams earlier. She wrinkles her forehead, upset and confused. Her eyes struggle to focus on the world around her. It’s almost as if tiny bugs were fluttering all around her room.

  
“Not until you give me what I want,” he says with a smile.

  
She looks around. _Is this a dream? Or is this real?_ It’s becoming hard to tell.

  
He stands up out of the chair, and Chloe notices what appears to be a shadow of wings behind him. She blinks, still trying to get her eyes to focus.

  
He reaches over and silences the alarm clock then turns his glance to Chloe.

  
“What do you see in him?” he asks curiously, “you dream about him often.”

  
Chloe remembers she has her gun in the drawer of her night table. Her eyes shift there for a moment as she gauges how far away it is from her. He notices her eyes and chuckles to himself.  
“You think that’s going to hurt me?” he says. He smiles and steps closer to her. She backs up further away from him in the bed.

  
“Go ahead,” he eggs her on, “try it.”

  
Just as he reaches the edge of her bed, she lunges towards the drawer, pulls out her weapon and aims it at him. By the time she turns around, he’s gone, and there is nothing there but an empty room. She looks around, confused by the rooms sudden stillness. He is gone, but she somehow still feels him there.

  
The alarm blares, and suddenly Chloe is underneath her cover, laying as if she were asleep. She turns her eyes to the clock; it reads 7:30 a.m. She looks around the room. Is this still a dream? Or …

  
Suddenly the door bursts open and in runs Trixie. She jumps on her mom's bed, “Mommy! I get to go to the museum today!” she says with a smile.

  
“Trixie!” Chloe yells, half frightened half upset, “Don’t scare me like that! You know not to just burst in here and jump on my bed like that!”

Trixie backs off slightly and frowns, “Sorry Mommy,” she says with hurt and confusion in her voice.

  
Chloe catches herself and realizes her outburst. She frowns and reaches to pull Trixie closer to her, hugging her.

  
I’m sorry Monkey,” she says in a warm and soft voice, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” she says.

  
Trixie solemnly nods. Chloe kisses her on her forehead, and Trixie looks up at her.

  
“Are you okay mommy?” she asks.

  
Chloe nods, but words don’t come out.

  
"Come on," she says, ushering Trixie out of her bed, " Let's get you ready for school."

Moments later a robe-clad Chloe enters her kitchen and presses a button to turn on the coffee maker. She stretches and yawns, then stares out the window, lost in thought. Suddenly, the sound of lapping knocks her out of her thought process. She turns to see Bubbles drinking water from his bowl. She looks down at him curiously. Probably feeling her eyes on him, Bubbles looks up to see Chloe watching him. He growls at her, causing her to jump back, then returns to Trixie's bedroom. She sighs and grumbled annoyedly at Lucifer. Moments later, Trixie comes out of her room ready for school, Bubbles trails next to her - very serious about his guard duties.

\--

  
Lucifer walks into the precinct, earlier than he usually would and with a determined gait to his walk. He walks straight up to Dan’s desk only to find it empty. He looks around for a moment and catches the eye of a nearby officer.

  
“Where is Detective Douche?” he asks confused. The officer looks at him oddly then his eyes move past Lucifer to Dan's empty desk. He reads the name tag.

  
“Ah, Detective Espinoza,” he says before gesturing down the hall, “Evidence room.”

  
Lucifer nods then head down a long hallway. He peeks into the evidence room only to see it empty. He catches Malcolm's eye.

  
“Ah, Mr. Morningstar,” Malcolm says, intrigued to see him in the precinct so early, “ I appreciate the visit but you know I can’t check out anything to you.”

  
Lucifer smiles, “Yes, well -” he begins.

  
“Plus, I already told Ms. Lopez that when I find the McClellan files, I will let her know.

  
Lucifer pauses.

  
“The McClellan files?” he asks.

  
“Yeah, once we find them I’ll send them to Ms. Lopez.”

“Find them, as in they are missing?”

  
Malcolm shrugs and scrunches up his nose, “Well …. Yeah, I guess.”

  
If Andrews files are missing, it means someone with access to the precinct has taken them. Perhaps trying to cover up his death, or prevent Lucifer from figuring out the details. A thought occurs to him.

  
Lucifer nods, “Have you seen Daniel?” he asks.

  
Malcolm thinks about it for a moment then shakes his head.

  
“Not for a few minutes. He said he would be back, but lately he’s been disappearing for hours.”

  
Lucifer nods. Right. The sooner he finds Daniel, the sooner he can send Ezria back to Hell. But not before Ezria tells him who this Shepard is. Lucifer is certain he would know something about Andrew's death. He smiles at himself for a moment; perhaps he did pick up something useful from the Detective. His mind crosses to her; she’s been distant as of late. He has been too, but the matters at hand are far more important than matters of the heart. Matters of the heart… His heart races. He finally recognizes that feeling, and it is scary. The last time he felt this way -

  
“Anything I can help you with?” Malcolm says, noticing a lingering Lucifer. Lucifer snaps out of his thought process and shakes his head, “Not today Malcolm.” He turns and heads down a hallway, peaking into open doors.

At the end of it, in a corner, he notices a jarred door to the alley. Odd, he thinks, it’s unlike the precinct to leave an alley door open. He approaches the door and pushes it open, stepping into the alley. The door shuts closed behind him, and he turns to see Daniel staring blankly at a brick wall. He’s mumbling something beneath his breathe that Lucifer can’t quite make out. He tilts his head curiously as he watches.

  
Slowly, he approaches. Daniel doesn’t seem to notice him; he’s just lost in whatever world has him captivated. The closer Lucifer gets, he can start to make out what Daniel is saying.

  
“I’m sorry, he says, “I tried. I really did.”

  
“Daniel?” Lucifer says as he approaches. Daniel doesn’t hear him; he’s so intently focused on whatever he is looking at or whatever he is talking to.

  
“I failed you. I had one job, and I failed,” he says, tears starting to flow in his eyes.

  
Lucifer places a hand on his shoulder and spins him around, Daniel snaps out of it and looks at Lucifer, shocked to see him there. He then looks around, and a look of confusion falls over his face.  
“Why are we in an alley?” he asks. Lucifer backs up, his eyes wide.

  
“How long have you been out here?" he asks.

  
Daniels eyes drop, lowered in shame. He either doesn’t know or won’t say.

  
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking back up at Lucifer, “ I didn’t show up to your thing last night. I just … I don’t know. One moment I was here at the station, the next I was …somewhere else, and it was already pretty late.”

  
It was worst than Lucifer thought, if Daniel was already disassociating for long periods …he must already be possessed. It’s very possible that those periods he is missing, Ezria had taken control of him. It’s no telling what he could have done in that time.

  
Lucifer turns to face the street, noticing the bustling of people walking to and from. If he didn’t do something soon, these city streets will be burned and empty; the stench of decaying flesh only relieved by the smell of charred buildings and cars.

“Daniel, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” he says in a voice dripping with a seriousness Daniel didn’t know he possessed.

  
“I need you to come to my penthouse this evening, I don’t care what time it is, I need you there.”

  
Daniel looks confused, “why? What is going on?”

  
“Just … trust me,” he says, “whatever is happening to you, I can fix.”

  
Daniel looks at him up and down. He has never really trusted Lucifer. Yet, maybe Lucifer was his only hope? The man who runs around proclaiming to be the devil might have seen weirder things than ghost hauntings and …maybe he was right.

  
Daniel nods, “Okay.”

\--

Chloe walks into the precinct, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her mind reels about the latest dreams she’s been having. She thinks she should go back to Linda, that seems to have helped her sleep at least. Maybe Linda can tell her why she is having these new dreams. She’s lost in thought when an officer bumps into her, causing her to spill her coffee all over her shirt.

  
“Sorry!” he says, closing the file, he was looking at. Neither of them were paying attention to where they were going.

  
“What are you, blind?” she says angrily, “You can’t walk two steps without doing something stupid?”

  
“I said I was sorry,” he says, his brow knitted in frustration. He sighs and walks a different direction. A nearby officer walks over to him and places his hand onto the man’s shoulder before turning to Chloe, a look of confusion on his face. She sighs and walks towards her desk. She yanks a tissue from the tissue box on her desk and begins to dab her shirt. She sits down, clearly frustrated by something yet unsure of what that is.

Lucifer reenters the precinct and notices Chloe sitting at her desk. His once fluid demeanor turns stiff as he walks over to her, suddenly aware of every movement in his body. His heart beats faster, betraying his nervousness. Now that he knows what that feeling is, he cant unfeel it.

  
“Detective,” he says smoothly as he slides into the chair by her desk. A sudden calmness falls over her, and she smiles.

  
“I was so sure I wouldn't see you today,” she says, brushing a rogue strand of hair behind her ear.

  
“Oh?” he questions.

  
“Yeah, you’ve been very … I don’t know, distant … since we spent that night together.”

  
Lucifer nods and leans back in his chair. He crosses his legs and adjusts his jacket, suddenly comfortable again. As long as they weren’t talking about the feeling in his chest, he could be his normal self.  
“Ah yes, well…as you know our poor Andrew has met an untimely fate.”

  
“Yes,” Chloe says nodding and turning her body towards Lucifer as to give him her undivided attention, “I’m sorry to hear about him. How are you taking it?”

  
Lucifer sighs and smiles, “As well as one could, I would assume. However, as you know, there is a very important rule that we not harm messengers and someone has broken that decree so … that plus this whole thing of Ezria escaping hell ... well ... you can imagine my hands have been quite full.”

  
“Ezria?” she asks, not having heard that name before.

  
Lucifer nods, “My brother, I’m sure I’ve told you about him?” he says.

  
Chloe rolls her eyes. This is another one of those moments where she should know something but doesn’t, and Lucifer is going to explain it to her in great depth as if she cared.

  
“Ezria and I were formed in the same instant,” he says as Chloe leans back into her chair, prepared to be there all day, “I was to create the heavens, and he was to serve a great role in the trials of mortals - trial by temptation.”

  
Officers mill about, a few catching small pieces of the conversation. None are the least bit interested, having heard Lucifer’s ravings before.

  
“But as is often the case, he was made too good at his job and ... he pushed the boundaries of his duties,” Lucifer says, his voice trailing off. He stares off into the distance only momentarily. If Lucifer hadn’t been the type for pageantry, she would have noticed it.

  
“His punishment for that was to be treated as mortals are; Damned to hell.”

  
“So you… you had to punish your own brother?” she asks.

  
Lucifer nods, “Had to? His punishment is ongoing, and he's never forgiven me for that..”

  
Chloe sits up, suddenly intrigued, “What did he do?”

  
Lucifer pauses for a moment and thinks.

  
“In the garden, with the apple.” He says, remembering the board game he played with the offspring and chuckling to himself.

  
Chloe shakes her head, “I thought that was you.”

  
Lucifer inhales between his teeth and straightens his jacket again, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

  
“No, that was him. I simply told everyone it was me …but father saw right through that.”

  
“I thought you never lied?” she says, a coy smile forming in the corner of her mouth.

  
He turns to her and looks her straight in the eye. There’s that feeling again.

  
“Sometimes,” he says, his words dripping with innuendo, “we do the unthinkable for those we love.”

  
Chloe gulps, having read between the lines. They share eye contact for a moment until it becomes too much and they both look away. Lucifer sighs and sits back comfortably into his chair. Both their minds are racing with thoughts and questions, and they are either too afraid or too aware to ask.

  
“Wait,” Chloe says, her face scrunched up as if she just came to a realization, “You and your brother ….you said formed in the same instant?”

  
Lucifer nods, “yes. We shared the same pool of celestial material so to speak. I was first of course, but he came shortly after that.”

  
“So, you’re a twin?” she says, the color draining from her face.

  
Lucifer laughs, “some might say they see a resemblance, but I assure you Ezria, and I are different.”

  
Chloe’s eyes drift. The man she had been seeing in her dreams, he looked so much like him but knew it wasn’t Lucifer. What if?

“Lucifer,” she says the tone in her voice imparting its importance, “I have to tell you something.”

  
Lucifer turns to her with that devilish grin.

  
“I think –“ she begins only to be interrupted by Lieutenant Adams.

  
“Decker!” he says.

  
They both turn to see him standing at the door of his office. He looks upset. He waves the folder in his hand then walks back into his office. He doesn’t say a word, but the message is clear. Chloe stands up and walks towards his office. Curious, Lucifer follows her.

  
Chloe enters the Lieutenants office, followed shortly after that by Lucifer. The lieutenant looks up at her, then at Lucifer and sighs.

  
“Mr. Morningstar, I only need to see Detective Decker.”

  
He nods, “Surely anything said to her can also be said in front of her partner.” She looks at him, begging him in her eyes not to start a scene. He just nods and smiles with a look saying he has it under control. Her gut tells her otherwise.

  
The lieutenant sighs and shrugs.

  
“Decker, I’ve been looking at the reports you’ve drawn up after that last couple of days, and I have to say I’m shocked at what I’m reading — falling asleep on stake-outs? Not completing reports at all? You've called out more times than you've worked this week. Was I wrong to insist you not go on leave?”

  
Lucifer looks at her oddly, somewhat impressed but also a little shocked.

  
“No,” she starts nervously, “the falling asleep thing was a one-time event. I wasn’t sleeping well, but that’s all been sorted.”

  
Not sleeping well? Lucifer thinks, why is this the first he’s heard of it.

  
“And I called out a few times, sure, but I've worked for this precinct long enough to deserve a day off once in a while…”

He sits back and sighs, throwing his hands up in the air.

  
“You’re making it very difficult for me here Decker,” he says, “I kept you on instead of forcing you to take leave because I thought you could handle it, but now I’m not so sure.”

  
“No,” she says stepping forward, “I’m fine. Like I said the falling asleep thing was a one-time thing, that’s been handled.”

  
“It’s not just that Decker, it’s everything. I’ve reviewed the files from the Sinnerman case, and all I am seeing are red flags. Going into a dangerous situation with no backup? Your partner isn’t even an officer; he’s just a consultant.”

Lucifer turns, suddenly now offended by the conversation.

  
“I beg your pardon,” he begins.

  
Chloe holds her hand out, signaling to Lucifer that she will handle this.

  
“With all due respect Leuitenant, Lucifer is an excellent partner. We’ve solved more cases with him working for us than we have before.”

  
“We’ve also had more reports of impropriety and several Miranda rights violations.”

  
“I don’t think- “she begins.

  
“I mean, is it true you threw someone through a glass window?” He asks.

  
“He very much deserved it,” Lucifer says proudly.

  
Chloe turns to him.

  
“Lucifer!” she says. He looks at her oddly, unsure as to what she could be so upset about.

  
The lieutenant nods.

  
“I think you are right Decker,” he says, slowly standing up on his cane,” I’ve treated you unfairly and questioned your more than capable detective work.”

  
She turns to him, shocked by his sudden change of tune. He walks slowly around his desk and stands directly in front of Lucifer. Side by side there is no comparison. Lucifer is tall and imposing while the Luitenant is considerably shorter and leans softly on his cane.

  
“The real problem here is your partner.”

Lucifer looks him, his jaw dropping. _What exactly is happening?_

  
“Lieutenant, “ Decker begins, a voice pleading.

  
He raises his hand to stop her.

  
“I think it’s time we allowed Mr. Morningstar the freedom to attend to his duties as a club manager.”

  
“What are you saying?” Lucifer asks.

  
The lieutenant sighs. “I’m saying your time at the LAPD is over Mr. Morningstar. I will have the papers drawn up to release you from any clearances you’ve errantly been given.

“Excuse me?” he says, a rage building inside of him. He’s never been fired before. _The gall!_

  
The lieutenant turns and walks back to his seat, “I’d recommend you leave us on good terms, Mr. Morningstar, Lest we forget what happened the last time you accosted this precinct lieutenant.

  
Chloe groans in anger and storms out. He turns to look at her as she leaves, then back to the lieutenant who has a stern look on his face. He wants to say so much, but if he’s learned anything from his time on earth, he knows that he needs to follow the girl. He leaves shortly after, chasing Chloe. He doesn’t even see the smile creep onto the Lieutenant's face.

“Detective!” he says, as she rushes back to her desk. She doesn’t even pause to let him get a word in.

  
“I’m so sick of your bullshit!” she says. He’s caught off guard. He was the one just fired, why is she angry at him.

  
“You don’t know when to shut up! This whole thing could have been avoided if you just …. Let go of your pride for one second and let me handle it.”

  
“Detective, I was just – “

  
“Do you think that I am not capable of handling this situation?!” she asks. Lucifer looks around and notices everyone in the precinct is looking at them.

  
“Detective, perhaps we should take this –“

  
“It’s not like I haven’t been doing this job for longer than you’ve been on earth! If you’re going to live with us at least pretend like you know what the fuck you are doing.”

  
He is at a loss for words; he’s never seen the detective this angry. Why is she so angry?

  
“I tried so hard. I stuck my neck out for you even when everyone was telling me it made no sense to have you as my partner. And you know what? I’m starting to believe them. You’re reckless, you’re immature, you’re incapable of being trusted by yourself, you break every rule in the book, and you only care about something when it relates to you. Sorry to break it to you Lucifer, but the whole world doesn’t revolve around you and your daddy issues.”

  
He is silent. It’s probably the most silent he’s been in millennia. He looks around, everyone is staring, but they have this look on their face. It looks like pity. He turns to see Ella standing in the doorway to her lab, her hand covering her mouth as if she too can’t believe it.

  
He turns back to Chloe and sees a darkness in her eyes; he doesn’t recall being there.

  
“You don’t mean that,” he says softly as if she bore a hole into the core of his being.

  
“Don't I? Or have you forgotten already that we never lie to each other,” she says, angrily grabbing a folder off her desk a storming deeper into the precinct. He watches her leave. He’s overwhelmed by feelings, each one washing over him like a crushing wave. It reminds him of his fall. He turns to Ella. She steps forward, ready to offer him comfort but he backs away, a look of confusion on his face and calmly leaves the precinct.

\--

  
Chloe enters an interrogation room and slams the door behind her. She slaps the folder down on the table and leans both her hands on the desk. Her heart is racing fast, and a hot head falls over her. She’s so angry but she knows she shouldn’t be.

She takes off her jacket, trying to cool herself down. She unbuttons the top few buttons of her shirt and fans them out, pulling air from the outside into her blouse. She looks up and sees her reflection in the mirror, then pauses. She blinks to make sure she is seeing correctly. _Is that a nose bleed?_

She reaches her hand up to her face and dabs the blood from above her lip. She looks at it. It's warm and fresh and ...dark. She wipes the remaining blood away with her sleeve. _What is happening?_  
\--

Later that evening, Lucifer sits at the piano in the middle of an empty LUX. The lights are still on, and a few people mill around, cleaning glasses and doing inventory. He seems utterly oblivious to their presence, however, as he stares into nothingness; his hands poised gently on the keys of his piano. He is deep in thought; brooding.

On the piano sits his regular glass of bourbon, half-filled and room temperature. Suddenly his eyes lock on the keys, and he begins to effortlessly play a melody. His fingers dance across the keys elegantly, but his eyes remain locked onto a specific point in space; lost in their own universe. It’s a haunting sound and if his employees hadn’t heard him play before they would have stopped to listen. It is beautiful and passionate, but there is something else behind it. He begins to play louder, the music rising into a violent, loud clang as he mashes the keys, a rage building inside of him.

Now his employees stop, watching him wildly jump from key to key. Then he stands and bangs out each note with a vengeance, louder and louder until the strings inside the piano begin to pop. He continues playing, however, every other note muted by broken wires.

  
Suddenly, he stops, and the dim red flame behind his eyes fades. He turns around to see Dan standing at the top of the stairwell, looking towards him shocked.  
Lucifer turns and sees that his feverish playing has spilled a few golden droplets of bourbon on his piano. He grabs the glass and brings it to his lips. He catches the time on his watch as he reaches out to grab the glass; It's 6:30 p.m.

  
“You’re early,” he says, taking a sip.

  
“I …, “ Dan says, “I don’t like being late.” He says. He sends a smile, a disingenuousness smile that lets Lucifer know he’s lying. He begins to descend the stairwell.

  
“So this is what LUX looks like before opening hour,” he says, watching the staff hastily exit the room. He looks up, the usually dim and colorful room now drenched in bright white light. Lucifer sips his drink watching him carefully.

  
Daniel approaches him and glances over at the piano.

  
“You uh … you want to talk about it?” he asks in the douchey way that makes Lucifer think for a moment he has the wrong person.

  
“There is nothing to talk about, Detective Douche,” Lucifer says, punctuating that last word. He spins to set his empty glass on the piano and catches the eye of a woman crossing the room.

  
“Do you mind?” he says, pointing at the piano, “I seem to have broken it.”

  
She gives a soft, wary smile then nods. He mumbles a gentle thank you beneath his breath as turns back to Daniel.

  
“Right,” he says, “shall we?” Lucifer motions to the elevator that will take him to his penthouse. Daniel nods and smiles before heading there. His smile fades as he begins to walk, his eyes trying desperately to look forward and not off to the side.

  
When the elevator dings, and the doors open, Daniel is surprised to find the penthouse completely empty. Maybe this was a bad idea, he thinks. It’s not too late to leave, he thinks. But then he thinks about what happens when he is alone.

  
He hadn’t really hung out with Lucifer after work; the guy was absolutely full of himself. They had nothing in common. Yet, here he was.

Lucifer goes straight to the bar and pours himself a drink.

  
“Wow, this is a nice place” Dan starts, trying to find something to start a conversation, " I'd ask how you could afford it but we wouldn't want you incriminating yourself now would we?" he says, chuckling at his own joke.

Lucifer ignores him and chugs an entire glass. His eyes turn to Daniel, trying to find a way to break it to him that he is possessed by the soul of his damned brother and requires a celestial intervention. Daniels' eyes look around the penthouse, taking in every inch of it. Every inch except….

Lucifer gets that curious look in his eyes.

He keeps his eyes on Daniel and crosses over into the Living room. Daniel’s eyes follow him, suddenly wondering why Lucifer is looking at him like that. Lucifer continues crossing over until Daniel’s eyes stop following him. He stands right next to his bookshelf and looks around.

  
“Daniel?” he asks.

  
“Yeah,” he says, not turning his eyes to where Lucifer is.

  
“Daniel looks at me,” he says.

  
Daniel doesn’t look, he stares straight forward, the hair on the back of his neck sticking straight out.

  
“Daniel,” he says more forcefully, “Look at me.”

  
Daniel’s eyes slowly turn. Lucifer can see the exact moment they become covered in fear.  
Next to him, there by the bookcase, Daniel can see the spirit of Charlotte. She smiles at him lovingly.

  
“What do you see Daniel?” he asks.

  
His eyes widen, and tears begin to form in his eyes. She smiles at him softly, a warmth overcomes him.

  
“Daniel,” she whispers, her words dripping with promises of relief.

  
“What do you see?” Lucifer asks again.

  
Daniel opens his mouth, his lips suddenly chapped, and says only one word.

  
“Charlotte.”

 


	9. The Haunting of Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer promises Daniel he will help figure out what is wrong with him. Amenadial and Maze have a breakthrough with the crossroads demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there! Things are ramping up and theres going to be a lot of chaos pretty soon. Thanks for sticking with me so far! I promise there will be a happy ending - in more ways than one.

Lucifer leans casually on the bookshelf, his head tilted curiously and a cup of bourbon held firmly in his hand. 

  
“Charlotte?” he says, his voice laced with so many questions.

  
Dan sighs and crosses over to the chair, he plops down and tries to relax, his eyes very aware of Charlotte still standing in the corner. She continues to whisper his name.

  
“Daniel,” she says. He closes his eyes, and a look comes over his face indicating he is pained by - or maybe even taking in the comfort of  - her voice. 

  
“I understand grieving, but this … _this_ has to be something else,” he says, “is she haunting me?”

  
He looks up at Lucifer, hoping he has an answer. I mean, Lucifer has an answer for everything, _right_? The craziness of what he is saying dawns on him and he chuckles to himself.

  
“What am I saying? I sound like a crazy person,” he says, standing up, and walking around the back side of the sofa.

  
“Yes,” Lucifer says, taking a sip of his drink, “quite often you do, but in this instance, I believe you.”

  
“You do?” Daniel says, shocked but also not shocked that Lucifer would willingly step into his current brand of crazy.

  
“Yes,” Lucifer says, pushing himself off the bookcase and walking over to his coffee table. He sets his drink down.

  
“The question is,” he continues,” watching Daniel with great intrigue, “Why you? I mean, he certainly could have picked a better host.”

  
Daniel's eyes go from hope to confusion.

  
“What?”

  
Lucifer puts his hands in his pocket. Why is it that these humans always need him to explain things. He sighs, understanding his impatience has less to do with Daniel and more to do with a wave of anger rising in him. How could Chloe talk to him like that? Why would she say those things?

  
“I’m confused,” Daniel says, knocking him out of that thought process, “he?”

  
Lucifer nods and crosses over to Daniel to inspect him.

  
“Yes, my brother. He’s been locked in hell since practically the dawn of time but has somehow managed to escape and inhabit your body.”

  
Lucifer grabs Daniels face and turns it abruptly, checking his jaw and neck.

  
“What are you doing?” Daniel says, yanking away from him and stepping back towards the bar. Maybe coming to Lucifer’s apartment _was_ a bad idea.

  
“I’m looking for a mark,” Lucifer says, “If you would hold still.”

  
He moves closer to Daniel, and Daniel backs away. Daniel crosses to the front of the sofa.

  
“Lucifer, I don’t know what this is about, but how is this helping?”

  
Lucifer follows him calmly, “If you would just let me look this could all be explained.”

  
Daniel continues to walk away, accidentally knocking over Lucifer’s glass onto his white rug. Lucifer scoffs.

  
“Look what you did Daniel!”

  
“I’m sorry Lucifer, I just … I don’t think this is helping me.” He says, crossing behind the sofa again.

  
“Maybe this was a bad idea. I should go,” he says heading towards the elevator.

  
“Wait!” Lucifer says, ignoring the spilled drink. Daniel pauses and looks towards him.

  
“I get that you don’t understand what I am saying and it all sounds crazy. But is it any crazier than being haunted by your ex-lover? Or losing long periods of time to nothing?”

  
Daniel thinks for a moment.

  
“Just … have faith, Daniel. I can help, but you have to… you have to trust me, “ Lucifer says, a softness in his voice that Daniel has never heard. He begins to think the conversation isn’t about him anymore. He pauses momentarily, his eyes drift carefully back to the bookshelf. Charlotte still stands there, a smile across her face. She reaches out her arm to him and whispers his name.

  
“Daniel,” she says.

  
“I don’t trust you,” Daniel says frankly, “I think you’re weird and self-centered and-“

  
“I get that a lot actually,” Lucifer says thinking back to earlier.

  
“and I don’t know what the hell I’m even doing here but …”

  
He begins to break down, the crackling in his voice becoming more apparent.

  
“I’m drowning here, man.”

  
Lucifer nods.

  
“I’m giving you a lifeline, Daniel. Take it.”

  
“Daniel,” she whispers again. He closes his eyes sharply, hoping to block it all away.

  
“Daniel?” Lucifer says. Daniel opens his eyes.

  
“Okay,” he says reluctantly.

  
Lucifer smiles, “Excellent. Now take off your shirt.”

  
\--

  
The door to Chloe’s home bursts open and Chloe stands behind it, her keys in her mouth and groceries in her hand. She stumbles in and sets them down on the counter before sighing.  
In the living room, Trixie sits with her babysitter working on a puzzle. They both turn to Chloe and smile. Trixie gets up and runs to Chloe.

  
“Mommy!” she says as she runs and hugs her. Chloe smiles and leans down to kiss her on her forehead.

  
“Hey, monkey! How was your day?”

  
“Good,” she says, her eyes turning to the bags on the counter. Chloe smiles and reaches into one bag to pull out a small container of chocolate cake. She hands it to a beaming Trixie.

  
“Only after dinner, okay?” she says. Trixie nods and takes it before running to set it on the counter.

  
The babysitter approaches Chloe and Chloe smiles.

  
“Thank Megan, sorry I’m late,” she says.

  
“No problem Chloe.”

  
She reaches into her bag and pulls out some money to hand Megan. Megan smiles, says goodbye and Chloe closes the door behind her.

  
She takes off her jacket and tosses it on a chair nearby before she begins to unpack her groceries. She starts to hum a song while she unpacks. It mindlessly takes over her, and she finds comfort in its tune.

  
“What song is that mommy?” Trixie asks with a look of curiosity on her face. Chloe smiles.

  
“I don’t know. I’m just humming.”

  
Suddenly the door bursts open and Maze walks in, intention plastered on her face. Chloe jumps for a second then is calmed to see it is only Maze.

  
“Can’t talk now Decker, just here to get something,” she says curtly as she walks past Chloe and into the downstairs bedroom.

  
“Nice to see you too Maze.” She says. She shakes her head and goes back to unpacking groceries. She starts to hum again.

  
Maze shuffles around in the room, tossing clothing and bags about. It catches Chloe’s attention. She watches for a second, unsure if she should say something. Eventually, she stops unpacking groceries and approaches Maze’s room. She leans on the door frame and watches as Maze tears the place apart.

  
“Where the hell…,” Maze mumbles under her breath.

  
“What are you looking for?” Chloe says. Maze looks up at her and sighs.

  
“I can’t find my double arced knife with the serrated tip. Have you seen it?”

  
Chloe raises her eyebrows. As if she is supposed to know what that is. All of Maze’s knives look the same. Maze notices the look on her face and scoffs.

  
“It’s in a satchel with a bunch of other knives?”

  
Chloe looks up as if trying to think and nods.

  
“So, like … every knife you’ve _ever_ owned? Maze, all of your knives are in satchels. You have one in pretty much every room of this house for some reason. Which reminds me, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to take those knives out of Trixie’s room. I mean, she could really hurt herself.”

  
Maze smiles, “Decker you’re a genius!” she says. She rushes out of the room, crosses into the living room and enters Trixie’s room. She doesn’t even stop to comment on the puppy that is guarding the doorway like a literal hellhound. There is shuffling inside of Trixie’s room before Maze comes out with a canvas satchel. She unties it and unfurls it. It has several knives of different shapes and size. She looks around and then smiles as she finds the one she needs.

  
“Perfect!” she says.

  
Chloe sits on the arm of the couch and crosses her arms.

  
“Do I even want to ask?”

  
Maze looks at her and ties the satchel back, “probably not.” She says.

Suddenly something catches her eye, and she turns her head abruptly to the puppy glancing back up at her intently. She looks at him for a few seconds before her body demeanor changes. A huge smile comes across her face.

  
“Cassius!?” she says. She kneels down to her knees and places a hand on his head. He responds in kind by wagging his tail.

  
“Oh, you old boy you. What are you doing up in this place?” She turns her head to Chloe then to Trixie, who isn’t paying them any mind as she continues to work on her puzzle.

  
“Bubbles,” Chloe says as she chuckles, “Trixie named him Bubbles.”

  
Maze scrunches up her face and turns back to Cassius.

  
“Tough break,” she says as she pats him and stands back up.

  
She leans in momentarily and sniffs him, trying to see if he smells like ash and brimstone, only to be saddened when he is not.  
She stands back up and tucks the satchel beneath her arm.

  
“Well, I’m off. Got a city to save,” Maze leaves just as Chloe wants to ask her a question. She sighs and turns her glance back to Bubbles. He watches her intently, his tail no longer wagging. She frowns and stands back up, going over to the kitchen to finish unpacking groceries.

  
“Go wash your hands Monkey,” she says as she pulls out a pre-prepared roasted chicken, “we’re going to have dinner soon.”

  
Trixie nods and heads to the bathroom.

  
Chloe opens up the bag, and the smell of the chicken fills the kitchen. It catches Bubble’s attention. He stands up and slowly walks over to the kitchen.  
Chloe sets the chicken into a dish and begins to cut it up. She notices Bubbles sitting nearby watching her every move, or rather watching the chicken. She looks at the chicken, then at Bubbles, then back at the chicken.

  
_Why the hell not?_

  
She cuts off a little piece and bends down.

  
“Here, you want to try it?” she asks,” it’s chicken.”

  
He warily walks closer and sniffs what she is offering him.

  
“Go on,” she says softly.

  
He reluctantly nibbles on the chicken and then scarfs it down, his tail wagging. A smile comes to Chloe’s face. It’s soft at first; then it curls up slowly into an almost menacing smile. Bubbles looks up at her, and his hair stands on edge. He begins to growl then snaps at her hand.

  
“Ow!” she says, standing up to inspect the wound on her hand, “stupid dog!”

  
Trixie comes back into the room after hearing the commotion.

  
“What’s going on mommy?” she asks.

  
“Nothing honey, bubbles just bit me.”

  
She looks up at Trixie only to see her staring back confused.

  
“Mommy, why is your nose bleeding?” she asks.

  
Chloe reaches her hand up to her nose and wipes away thick, dark blood.

  
“Its…. It’s nothing baby,” she says.

  
\--

  
“I don’t understand,” Lucifer says, a bewildered look on his face. Daniel puts his pants back on, a marked redness to his face.

  
“I’m starting to think you are just doing this for fun,” Daniel says jokingly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

  
Lucifer shakes his head, “Trust me douche if this were fun for me your pants would not be going back on.”

  
Daniel doesn’t know how to respond to that. Lucifer heads back to the bar and pours himself a glass.

  
Daniel reaches for his shirt and throws it on.

  
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to say uhm,” he begins as Lucifer turns to him, “do you… want to talk about it?” he asks pointing to the glass. Lucifer looks at it and turns his head curiously.  
“I have a friend who can talk to you about getting help,” he says. Lucifer realizes what Daniel is saying and chuckles.

  
“Oh douche,” he says, “I appreciate your concern, but I do not have a drinking problem. In fact, I have the complete opposite. If I could get drunk enough to have a drinking problem, it would be quite a pleasant change of pace.”

  
Daniel looks at him curiously then shrugs, if Lucifer doesn’t want help now maybe at some point he will.

  
“Besides,” he says setting down the glass, “we are here to fix your issue.”

  
Daniel sits down on the couch and leans down to put his shoes back on.

  
“Yeah, and so far you’re doing great. All I’ve managed to do is expose my bare ass, and you still haven’t told me how this helps. I think this was a bad idea. Maybe I should just … check myself in somewhere.” He says.

  
He pauses and sits up, coming to his own realization.

  
“Maybe I’m having a breakdown?” he asks rhetorically.

  
Lucifer chuckles, “No Daniel, you are not having a breakdown. Weak in body perhaps, but I do not surround myself with mortals weak in mind.”  
Daniel looks at Lucifer.

  
“Was that a compliment?” he asks, a little put off by how it came out. Lucifer thinks for a moment, then pats himself on the back for finding something nice to say about Daniel.

  
“I suppose it was.”

  
Daniel lets go a small smile then goes back to tying his shoes.

  
“So what now?” he asks.

  
Lucifer sighs and sits down at his piano. He begins to play a tune softly. Daniel turns to him and watches.

  
“If my brother has decided to use you as his vessel, you should have a mark on you. It would start small, maybe not really noticeable at first but the closer he gets to full control the more noticeable it should be. You don’t have a mark, so we still have time. I suddenly find myself with both a lack of and an excess of the damn thing.”

  
Daniel arcs his eyebrow, not certain this is the route the evening was supposed to be taking.

  
Lucifer shakes his head, “I just don’t understand how Charlotte plays into all this.”

  
Daniel’s eyes drift to the figure in the corner who stands there watching him silently. She smiles when she notices his eyes on her.

  
“Daniel,” she whispers, her hands outstretched. He snaps his eyes back to Lucifer.

  
“So you think your dead brother is possessing me?” he asks, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  
Lucifer ignores him and continues playing the piano. It’s a soothing song, and the melody is beautiful, but the way he plays it gives it a certain sadness. Lucifer stares off into the distance, his eyes hazy with nostalgia.

  
“You know, when we were younger, my brother and I would spend our days singing. Songs our mother taught us, songs we taught ourselves. We were a good pair. It was nice to have someone who understood your every move,” he says out loud. His eyes drop down to the keys, and his smile turns into a frown.

  
“Then things changed,” he says.

  
“The world has a way of doing that to you,” Daniel replies, sitting back in the couch and making himself more comfortable. His eyes still struggle to ignore the form poised gently in the corner. As long as the music was playing, it was easier to ignore her whispers.

  
They sit in silence for a moment; both lost in their own world with the piano serving as steady ambient sound.

  
“If I were there,” Daniel says, his eyes focused forward on the coffee table, but peering past them into something else, “I could have saved her.”

  
Lucifer’s eyes move off the keys for a moment and onto Daniels. He could see the heartache, the pain, the guilt. It surprises him, but it also comforts him. He sees a bit of himself in Daniel. Perhaps he too was feeling guilt. Maybe he was all those things the Detective had called him. Perhaps that is why she wouldn’t feel the same way he did. He sighs and looks back to Daniel. Ezria was never good with emotion; it was always one or the other, never a complex tapestry of confused states of mind. He was always a one-track person. Once he set his mind on something, that was it. Maybe Lucifer had chosen the wrong person? Maybe Daniel wasn’t the vessel for Ezria, or maybe he had caught it early enough that if they did something now, things would be fine.

  
Lucifer’s eyes veer back down to the piano. He has no idea what to say in this circumstance that would make it better, so he says nothing. What should be an awkward moment, however, is comforting. Both lost in their own world yet acknowledging each other. He smiles to himself. Maybe Detective Douche wasn’t too bad after all.

  
Suddenly his phone rings and he stops playing. He reaches into his pocket to answer it.

  
“Hello?” he says.

  
He listens for a second, then stands up.

  
“I’ll be there soon.” He says.

  
Daniel sits up and looks at Lucifer.

  
“You going somewhere?” he says.

  
Lucifer turns to him, realizing he had promised an answer to his problem.

  
“Yes, unfortunately, I need to handle something quickly,” he says, gathering his jacket from the edge of the sofa.”

  
“However, when I return … we will figure something out for your unique solution, yes? Feel free to make yourself at home.”

  
Daniel reluctantly nods and sits back.

  
Lucifer heads for the penthouse elevator and presses the down button. He turns back to see Daniel staring off into the distance, a saddened look still plastered on his face. He sighs.

  
“I promise you,” he says.

  
Daniel turns to him.

  
“We’ll figure this out,” Lucifer continues.

  
Daniel lets go a soft smile and nods. The elevator dings and Lucifer steps in. Lucifer may be a lot of things, but he is a man of his word. Daniel watches as the elevator doors close and he is left alone in the penthouse. Well, almost alone. He can still make out the form of Charlotte standing in the corner near the bookcase.

  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers to her, still avoiding eye contact and hoping it will make her go away.

  
\--

  
Inside a dusty old warehouse, Amenadial and maze sit near an old workbench covers in satchels of knives and medieval weapons. In the background, the crossroads demon hangs by his arms. His shirt is torn open, revealing several slice marks on his chest that ooze with deep red blood. He hangs there, appearing to be lifeless.

  
“This one is my favorite,” Maze says, pulling a knife out of a rolled-up canvas of blades, “It belonged to Seramina and was forged in the sixth circle of hell; right inside the fire pit.”

  
“Didn’t you kill Seramina?” Amenadial asks.

  
Maze smiles and strokes the blade as if it were a lover, “How do you think I got this knife?”

  
“Weren’t you and her like … you know?” he asks again.

  
Maze drops her knife as if she were annoyed by the question.

  
“How do you think I got this knife?” she asked again. Amenadial smiles and laughs while shaking his head.

  
“I’m glad it ended when it did. Otherwise, I’d be one of your trophies.”

  
She frowns puts the knife back in its satchel. Amenadial realizes that is a touchy subject and clears his throat; he turns back to the crossroads demon to hangs still. He ruffles his brow.

  
“Are we sure he is alive?” he asks.

  
Maze turns to him and looks for a moment. She turns back to the table and picks up a nearby bolt before tossing it at his head. It smacks him, sending his head bouncing backwards and he winces in pain.

  
“Come on!” he replies, “I told you what I know.”

  
Maze turns back to Amenadial, “Yup, still alive.”

  
Suddenly a gust of wind and Lucifer enters, his wings spread. They collapse quickly, and his quick stride turns into a normal walk.

  
“Ah, brother,” Amenadial says, “just in time.”

  
“You have information for me I take it? I was in the middle of something,” Lucifer says.

  
Maze turns to him and smiles, “The demon knew more than he said. Just took a bit of convincing to get it out.”

  
“That is why you are the best,” he says lovingly. She smiles, almost melting at his praise.

  
“And?” he says, ready to hear the news.

  
“You’re not going to like this, “ Amenadial says, “ but it’s Abel.”

  
“Abel?” Lucifer says shocked, almost impressed, but definitely not concerned.

  
Amenadial nods, “Yes, remember when you resurrected Abel in a bid to remove Cain’s mark?”

  
Lucifer nods.

  
“Well, while alive in the body of that poor woman he was able to mend their relationship as brothers. With that guilt gone …” Amenadial says.

  
Lucifer nods a look of realization, “he was no longer punished in hell.”

  
Amenadial nods.

  
“So he ended up in the silver city?” Lucifer asks.

  
“Yes. With all the knowledge the Silver city has to offer.”

  
“So he’s no longer a Neanderthal,” Lucifer says, “good for him, but what does that have to do with our predicament?”

  
“Well, with that knowledge also came the opportunity to exact revenge for his brother's death.”

  
“Sevenfold,” Maze chimes in. Amenadial nods.

  
Lucifer nods, “Ah, so it’s revenge our Abel is after? Let me guess, he’s been collecting demon blades.”

  
Maze and Amenadial look at one another, it’s a look that Lucifer doesn’t like. The demon starts to chuckle, albeit raspy as it is very possible one of his lungs is collapsed. They all turn to him.

  
“Why would he pay someone like me to set a soul free? Or hide his identity so cleverly if he just plans on showing up and stabbing you with a demon blade?” he says.

  
“What are you saying?” Lucifer asks.

  
“He’s not interested in hurting you; he wants to watch you suffer. He’s not right in the head,” the demon says.

  
“Cain was wrong for killing his brother,” Amenadial says, “but he wasn’t lying about being concerned over Abel’s mental state. He has a way of getting what he wants without raising a hand.”

  
“He’s going to hurt everyone you care about and watch you spiral as you try to understand why, or where the next turn will take you.”

  
“But he didn’t count on us finding him so quickly, he made a mistake in killing a messenger,” Amenadial says.

  
Lucifer is quiet, in his own mind. Is this why Chloe has been acting strangely? Or Daniel, is this why he was chosen as the vessel? What of Linda? Or young Trixie? Thankfully Cassius is protecting them, but what about everyone else? Had he really put them in danger just by … being in the city?

  
“See,” the demon says, noticing the reeling behind Lucifer’s eyes “you’re already questioning your own actions or inactions.”

  
They all turn to him. He’s been listening through one open – and unbruised – eye. This same eye is now wide with fear as the attention turns to him, this time with malintent.

  
“Wait,” he says, panic in his voice.”

  
“Tell us what you know, all of what you know, “Lucifer says. Maze turns around, pulls a blade from her satchel and approaches the demon.

  
“Okay Okay!” he says, trying to move away from her to no avail.

  
“I was approached by him,” he begins.

  
“What did he look like? Lucifer asks.

  
“I don’t know, it was dark, and he made sure to stay in the shadows.” The demon replies.

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadial. Amenadial nods.

  
“He asked me what I was doing on earth, and I told him I was guarding the door,” the demon continues, his eyes darting back and forth from Lucifer to Maze’s knife.

  
“I told him I just wanted to go home but I couldn’t because I didn’t have any daggers. He told me he could offer me daggers in exchange for a favor. That’s what I do, so I agreed. I asked him what he wanted in return, and he told me he had planned for a soul to cross through the door but needed my help opening the gate. I asked him who and he wouldn’t tell me. He told me I didn’t need to know who, I just needed to open the gate.”

  
“And you accepted this deal blindly?” Amenadial asks, “without knowing who it was.”

  
The demon nods, ashamed at his part in the story.

  
“I just … I wanted to go home. I would have done anything,” he says, his eyes daring to stray to Maze’s. They share an understanding, a split second of recognition that they are both in the same boat. Maze turns away and catches Lucifer’s eyes. He noticed the moment too. The demon turns back to Amenadial.

  
“If I had known it was Ezria I … I wouldn’t have agreed.”

  
“So you knew it was Ezria this whole time?” Amenadial asks, rage in his voice.

  
“I was told I should look away, but …but I couldn’t. I had to see. By the time he crossed over it was too late. There was nothing I could have done.”

  
“And you had your daggers, so why care about the mortals when you were on your way home?” Lucifer says, a voice of disgust.

  
The demon doesn’t respond. He just hangs his head in shame. Amenadial puts his hands on his hips and paces. He shakes his head.

  
“This isn’t good Luci,” he says.

  
“Brother, I am fully aware,” Lucifer responds.

  
“Abel set free on the world with new knowledge and a blank check from the silver city …” Amenadial says, shaking his head.

  
“And using Ezria as his distraction,” Maze follows.

  
“He believes he can do what he pleases, but that is his error. Even all the sophistication and divine knowledge can’t cover up millenniums of torment,” Lucifer says.  
Amenadial nods.

  
“He must have killed the messenger. Whatever the message was that Andrew was delivering, he did not want it to reach its final destination,” Lucifer says.

  
Amenadial nods, “He may have been in heaven, but all that time in hell affected him. He’s gone rogue, and Andrew paid the price for that.”

  
“So we have a rogue agent of the silver city on our hands is what you are telling me?” Lucifer asks.

  
“Not only that, but he is known for his charm. He wooed even God for a moment,” Amenadial says, crossing his arms; a serious look crawling across his face.

  
Lucifer nods, “and a Shepard needs a flock,” he says, his voice going up at the end to insinuate that he was thinking. The room is silent; each person lost in their own thoughts.

  
“How did he look? Lucifer asks the demon. The demon looks up at him, confused for a moment.

  
“Ezria?”

  
Lucifer nods.

  
The demon searches his memory for a moment, then turns back to Lucifer.

  
“Angry,” he says.

  
Lucifer sighs and moves towards the tool table where Maze’s knives are open on display.

  
“He was always full of himself. You think I’m bad then you haven’t spent a second in a room with Ezria. If anyone deserves the title of the devil it’s him, not me,” he says before he turns to Maze.

  
“Why have I never heard of him before?” Maze says, “of all the cells in hell I think I’ve seen them all.”

  
Lucifer shakes his head.

  
“There are a few you haven’t seen and for good reason. Ezria’s only purpose is to tempt the weak. He was to offer temptation to mortals to separate the weak minded from those who would eventually make it to the silver city. But when father does something, he doesn’t do it halfway. Ezria is complete temptation. He will twist your words and thoughts for his own bidding. You will lose yourself in what he wants.” Lucifer says.

  
Amenadial nods, “Like the garden,” he says.

  
Lucifer turns to him, “yes, like the garden.”

  
Maze looks confused.

  
“Wait, the Garden of Eden? That was you though, right?”

  
Lucifer smiles, “My job is punishment Darling, what would I do with those who have no guilt? No, Ezria’s job was to tempt them into guilt, and my job was to dole out the punishment.”

  
“Hardly seems fair,” the demon says. Lucifer turns to the demon and smiles.

  
“See, that’s what I said, but you know father must have his will and all. See I was created not just about punishment but fair restitution. Part of that is knowing the difference between right and wrong. So when I told father it wasn’t right to trap mortals into committing a sin, you can imagine the shit list I ended up on.”

  
“It was much more than that, “ Amenadial says, trying to correct the record.

  
“My point, brother, is that criticism isn’t father’s strong suit,” He says looking at Amenadial firmly. He turns back to the knives, running his hand over a few of them.

  
“Either way, after the garden and when it was discovered Ezria was behind it, he was sent down to rule hell with me, but … I couldn’t let that happen,” Lucifer says, finally landing on a knife of his choice. He picks it up and examines it with great love.

  
“He was too … raw and unbridled. I needed control of hell and a brother running around tempting my demons into unthinkable actions was not going to happen. So, I locked him in a depth of hell they neglect to mention in books.”

  
Lucifer turns and walks towards the demon, his hands wrapped around the knife. He kneels down and rifles through the demons pockets before pilling out a solid black gem. He smiles, the demon's eyes widen.

  
“No, please! I need those!” he says.

  
Lucifer tosses the gem on the floor, shattering it into pieces. The pieces roll a few inches then morph into sharp blades that shine in the dull light of the factory. He turns back to the demon.

  
“Right. As you can imagine we have much to do and very little time. So there isn’t much time to revel in your punishment, unfortunately,” he says, reaching up to cut the demon free. The demon touches the marks around his arm as he is cut loose, then turns to the blades. He begins to move towards them when Maze steps in his way, blocking him.

  
He turns back to Lucifer, whose eyes are now red with flame and a broad grin across his face.

  
“For your role in this, I will give you want you most desire. Your duties as a gatekeeper are over, and you shall return home, but without your ill-gained blades.”

  
“No!” the demon begs,” please! You can’t send me back without them. I’ll be killed.”

  
“Your fate once you return is not up to me,” he says, “let your brothers and sisters decide.”

  
Lucifer hands the blade in his hand to Maze, who happily accepts.

  
“No please!” the demon begs further. In one swift motion, Lucifer’s wings extend and circle the demon. In the blink of an eye, they both disappear.

  
A smiling Maze casually walks back to the table and slides the knife back into its sleeve. She then rolls all the knives back into their canvas and lovingly ties a bow around them. Amenadial looks on as if he is watching some secret ceremony. Maze feels his eyes on her and smiles to herself. She slowly turns around, and they lock eyes.

  
\---

  
Back at Lucifer’s penthouse, Daniel steps outside onto the landing of Lucifer’s balcony for a breath of fresh air. He needs the sounds and lights of the city below to distract him from the whispers that only grow stronger in his solitude. He takes in the bright lights and the few stars he can see peeking beneath the hazy brightness of the bustling city below.

  
He takes a deep breath and inhales. He gets why Lucifer spends so much time here; it’s calming. It’s chaotic, but it’s a chaos that is disconnected and peaceful – controlled.  
“Daniel,” a voice whispers to him. He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore it.

  
“Daniel, please,” she begs.

  
He turns to see Charlotte standing just a few feet from him, the closest she has been. It both frightens him and tempts him. She smiles lovingly. His tears begin to swell again, a feeling ready to overflow inside of him.

  
“Daniel,” she whispers again.

  
“I’m sorry!” he says, the feeling bursting out from within. His eyes begin to swell with water.

  
“I’m sorry! I should have been there, I should have –,” he averts his eyes. He knows she isn’t real. She’s just a ghost, or some apparition sent to haunt him because of his own guilt. He should have been there. It was either her own past or his that led them to this point. He knows she wasn’t an angel, no she was far from it, but neither was he and maybe that is what drew them together. Either way, he should have been there; he should have taken steps to prevent her fate. If he could, he would wrap her in his arms and never let go.

  
“Daniel,” she says again, her voice softer and gentle.

  
He turns back to her. Her arms are stretched out, gently ushering him into them. How he longed to feel her skin on his; to smell the sweet scent of her perfume. She looks at him with those loving eyes, and for a moment, it feels real. It feels like she is standing right there and there is nothing but space between them. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows she isn’t real, he knows he will be disappointed, but his mind hopes that - even for a split second – he will feel something. Something other than his heartbreak; this pain; this guilt.

  
It doesn’t take much thought as in an instant he closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her. She, in turn, wraps her arm around him. It is a moment of bliss. He can feel her arms draped around him in a tight and longing embrace. She is cold and lifeless, but his mind fills in the smell of her perfume and the rhythm of her heartbeat. It is a moment that only lasts a split second, and then she’s gone.

Daniel opens his eyes, confused by the vanishing act. What was once a deep embrace was now emptiness. He looks at the empty space in his arms, and a look of confusion falls over him. Was this real? Had any of this been real? He turns back to the city to see it still bustling with the promise of controlled chaos. He shakes his head. No, that couldn’t have been real, but how he wishes it were.

  
Suddenly his head pops back, knocked by an unseen force. His body stumbles backwards, but he manages to stay on his feet. When he regains his composure, his head tilts forward, and his facial expression is blank; unmoving and unfeeling. He opens his eyes, and they are fully white. Even with this, it is clear he can see. He looks around momentarily, grasping his surroundings before he turns back to the city. He stares out into it, scanning the horizon. He doesn’t blink, just stares. Here, he will wait for Lucifer’s return.

 


	10. You've got mail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel and Maze leave a lot unsaid, Lucifer and Amenadiel deal with Daniel being a messenger and Chloe's personal ordeal reaches a breaking point.

Inside the old warehouse, Maze sits comfortably next to her knives on the tool table. Her legs dangle off the ground like a child in a high chair. She fiddles with a bag of chocolate covered peanuts before tossing one up in the air and catching it in her mouth. She smiles at the achievement and munches happily.  
Nearby, Amenadiel paces impatiently.

What if Lucifer doesn’t come back? What if the door closes behind him and he’s trapped in Hell? He couldn’t do this one his own, not without Lucifer’s talents. He pauses, _could_ he do this on his own? Deep down he knows he couldn’t but wishes he could. Since when do him and Lucifer do anything together? He shakes his head. Now is not the time to be prideful, not with so many mortal lives on the line. He turns to Maze to see her with not a care in the world, happily tossing candies into her open mouth.

  
“What is taking him so long?” he asks.

  
“Relax bird face,” she says, “he’ll be back soon. He’s probably just tying up some loose ends,” Maze responds before tossing another candy and catching it with her mouth.

  
“What if he gets trapped down there?” he says, “We need him here.”

  
“Why are you so antsy?” she asks.

  
He shrugs her off and continues pacing. She eyes him suspiciously before putting candy in her mouth. She sets the bag aside and hops off the table.

  
“You’re not telling me something,” she says. He turns to her, looks her up and down then scoffs.

  
“Maze, we don’t have time for an argument.”

  
“We have all the time in the world,” she says, walking over to him with arms spread as if she has nothing to hide, “You remember the last time you didn’t tell me something, right?”

  
“Are you still upset about Linda?” he asks, surprised.

  
She rolls her eyes at him. _Unbelievable_ , she thinks.

  
“So what is it?” she asks, “why are you so worried about him not coming back?” she asks.

  
“Look, if he doesn’t come back then the city… the city and all the mortals in it are doomed.” He says bluntly, noticing she didn’t answer the question.

  
Maze eyes him oddly; he hasn’t told her any new information. His concern seems unfitting of an angel. Angels watch mortals be born and die every day. To angels a mortal death is as sure as the sunrise, so why does he care so much?

  
“What do you care about mortals for?” she asks, “You’ve never cared about mortals before.”

  
He turns away from her, annoyed by her prying. She widens her eyes, something dawning on her. She nods. Her face changes to a combination of disgust and hurt.

  
“Unless it’s a specific mortal you are worried about,” she says, turning to head back to the table, a sadness in her voice.

  
Amenadiel turns around, noticing the change in her posture and not sure what to say. They stand in silence for a moment. She turns around, and their eyes meet. There is so much to be said there, but neither wants to speak first.

  
Suddenly a large gust of wind washes through the room as Lucifer appears, his wings proud and splayed. Amanadiel and Maze never lose eye contact, even as papers fly past their vision.

  
Lucifer lands quietly and his wings fold back into his perfectly tailored suit. He straightens his jacket for a moment.

  
“That’s one less demon to worry about,” he says, brushing the ash off his sleeve. Maze’s eyes turn to him, briefly leaving Amenadiel. She sees the ash fall off his shoulders and quickly approaches him to smell his jacket. Her eyes roll back; this is her idea of heaven.

  
“Maze, Darling,” he says, a sweet and sultry voice, “next time I’ll bring you a souvenir.”

  
“Shut up and let me have this,” she says curtly, her eyes still closed. Lucifer smirks and turns to Amenadiel.

  
“So,” he says, “we only have a day to find young Abel and enact a befitting enough punishment.”

  
Amenadiel nods,” We should start with Ezria,” he says, “If Abel released Ezria from Hell, he will know who he is and where we can find him.”

  
“Excellent,” Lucifer says pulling away from Maze. She wants to grab him and hold him still, but she knows better than that. She reaches out her hands gently, almost as a reaction but then drops them before Lucifer notices.

  
“Then it is agreed. We will return Ezria to his cage, give Daniel his mortal life back and punish Abel for his transgressions. Honestly, I don’t see what the spectacle is all about,” he says calmly, having everything figured out in his head.

  
Amenadiel looks at him oddly, “Daniel?” he asks.

  
Lucifer nods, “I have reason to suspect Ezria has taken Daniel as a vessel. I have Daniel waiting at my penthouse as we speak. We can go there, get the information out of him and he will be back in his cell before brunch.,” Lucifer says.

  
Maze turns to him, “Aren’t you two brothers?” she asks.

  
Lucifer looks at her, a surprised look on his face that insinuates she might be crossing a line.

  
“What exactly are you implying Mazikeen?”

  
Mazikeen, she thinks, his anger is … _exciting_.

  
She crosses her arms and leans on the table.

  
“Why are you so eager to lock him back up? You haven’t even heard his side of the story.”

  
Lucifer shrugs her off.

  
“Ezria is wildly impulsive. There is no way that keeping him anywhere but in a cage is good for anyone.”

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “She might have a point, Luci, people change.”

  
Lucifer’s voice becomes stern and short, “Ezria is not a person Amenadiel. He is an angel with few interests or qualities besides temptation. Daniel doesn’t deserve to be his plaything.”

  
They are both silent. Lucifer has a point, but so do they. They are at an impasse.

  
Amenadiel sighs, “So what’s the plan?” he asks.

  
Lucifer smiles a devilish smile, “I believe we are in for an exorcism brother.”

  
Amenadiel laughs, “You can’t be serious?” he says.

  
Lucifer nods. Amenadiel smile fades.

  
“Luci, we can’t perform an exorcism on Daniel… it will kill him!”

  
“There you go caring for mortals again,” Maze says, crossing back to the tool table to begin packing away all of her knives. Amenadiel turns to her, wanting to comment but Lucifer interrupts.

  
“He’s right,” Lucifer says, “but again, one step ahead of you. I’ve already pulled an assistant. A mortal assistant.”

  
Amenadiel looks shocked.

  
“Who?” he asks.

  
\--

  
Inside of her apartment, Ella sits on the couch in her living room donned in only a tank top and shorts. She is perched on the edge of her seat, a controller in hand and is screaming into her headset.

  
“Go for objective A! what are you stupid?” she asks.

  
On the screen in front of her plays a battle scene. On it, men are running back and forth through boarded and broken houses while diving from bullets and hiding from nearby tanks.

  
“Come on Tinkerbell! Use your grenades!” she says.

  
Suddenly her character turns around only to be faced with an enemy wielding a knife. The enemy stabs the sharp blade into her character, and everything goes black.

  
She sighs a frustrated grunt and stands up. She presses a button on her controller that takes her back to her main screen. She rips off the headset and sets it down, grumbling the entire time.

  
She crosses over to her kitchen and opens the fridge. The bright light from the refrigerator contrasts significantly with her dark apartment. Behind her, the blinds in her living room are open, and cars buzz by. A dim street light blinks once then steadies.

  
She looks around for something to snack on but looks disappointed. She reaches into her fridge and pulls out a Tupperware container filled with …who knows what. She cracks it open and smells it. Huh, she thinks. She sniffs it again, not sure if it is still good or bad, whatever it is. Suddenly her phone rings. She turns to her coffee table to see it lit up and vibrating. She sighs, puts the Tupperware back and grabs a grapefruit soda from the fridge before closing it. She pops the soda open and takes a sip as she walks back to her living room and picks up her phone. She looks at the screen to see who is calling; Lucifer.

  
She scrunches up her face in confusion. Why is Lucifer calling her so late? She presses accept and brings the phone up to her ear.

  
“Lucifer?” she says.

  
“Ella,” a voice from the other end of the line says, “how lovely to hear your voice.”

  
“Is everything okay?” she says, setting the soda down on her table and taking a seat back on her couch.

  
“I believe the answer to that question involves more time than I have,” he says, “but I need redeem that favor.”

  
Ella thinks for a moment to try and recall what favor she had promised Lucifer. He notes her silence.

  
“I believe you told me you’d be willing to help me with an exorcism,” he says.

  
She chuckles, still thinking he is joking.

  
“Right, yes the exorcism,” she says. She doesn’t do the air quotes, but her voice implies she believes the exorcism is a word Lucifer is substituting for something else. He tends to speak in thick allegory. She doesn’t know what exorcism is code for, but he is always a man of mystery. She’s sure that it will be an entertaining evening.

  
“Correct, when shall I expect you?”

  
She looks at the time on a nearby nightstand and sighs.

  
“Can we do this another night?” she asks, “It is getting pretty late.”

  
“Sorry Darling, there is no time. If I didn’t need you, I wouldn’t request your company this late.” He says.

  
She sighs again. If she spent her night trying to understand what story he was spinning for his weird … roleplaying fantasy it would take forever.

  
“Okay,” she says reluctantly, “I’m down to see where this road takes us.”

  
“Excellent,” Lucifer says, “when shall we expect you?”

  
\--

  
The elevator doors to Lucifer’s penthouse open and Lucifer and Amenadiel walk through them. Lucifer notices Daniel standing on the balcony, looking out towards the city.

  
“Ah, Daniel, You’re still here. Excellent,” he says, going straight to the bar and preparing a drink for himself, “I was sure you would have left, and I would have to hunt you down.” He says with a chuckle. He is half joking, half not. Daniel doesn’t respond; he just stares out towards the balcony.

  
“You remember my brother Amenadiel?” he says, pouring a drink into his glass. Daniel still doesn’t respond. _He must be upset_ , Lucifer thinks.

  
”I do hope you’ll forgive that brief interlude,” Lucifer continues,” but now that we are here, you have our undivided attention.”

  
Amenadiel watches Lucifer and smiles, “Brother, I don’t think this is the drinking occasion.”

  
Lucifer sips his drink and smiles, “It’s the taste. I can’t get enough of the taste.” he says.

  
“If I knew you couldn’t get drunk I’d-, “ Amenadiel says, turning back to the balcony then abruptly ending his sentence. Lucifer tops off his glass and turns briefly to Amenadiel.

  
“You’d what?” he asks. He notices Amenadiel looking out towards the Balcony and follows his eyesight. He briefly looks before turning back to his glass. Something causes him to double take. He looks back out towards the balcony and sees Daniel staring back at them. Except, it isn’t Daniel. His eyes are entirely white. Even without pupils, it's obvious they are being watched.

  
“Bloody Hell,” Lucifer says under his breath, a myriad of emotions swirling through him. Daniel stands there quietly, watching them both. Amenadiel turns back to Lucifer.

  
“I don’t think he’s our guy,” Amenadiel says.

  
“No,” Lucifer replies, “I would sadly have to agree. Which means Ezria could be anywhere.”

  
Lucifer sets the glass down and slowly approaches Daniel. Daniel watches him; unmoving, unblinking.  
Lucifer sighs.

  
“Oh Daniel,” he says solemnly, “we got the signs all wrong.” He looks Daniel up and down, then stares back into his eyes.

  
“He answered the call,” Amenadial says.

  
“Yes, it looks as though he did,” Lucifer says.

  
“A messenger with a small child,” Amenadiel says, shaking his head, “They sure know how to pick them.”

  
Lucifer nods, a saddened look creeping over his eyes. He never treated Andrew well, and now Daniel would meet that same fate.

  
He turns back to Amenadiel, “is there no way to reverse this?” he asks.

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “Once the call is answered… he will deliver a message whenever he is needed.”

  
Lucifer turns back to Daniel. Daniel just stares on, still unmoving and unfeeling. There is a bundle of unresolved emotions tearing itself through Lucifer’s gut. The immediate feeling is anger, anger at father for allowing this to happen. Angry at himself for … feeling.

  
“Unless,” Amenadiel says, his brain reeling. Lucifer turns to him.

  
“Unless?” he asks, a tinge of hope in his voice.

  
“Unless you can block the trigger. Each messenger has a trigger. If we can disassociate him from his trigger, theoretically we can turn it off.”

  
Lucifer nods, “He was seeing Charlotte,” he says, “he came to me and said he felt haunted by her.”

  
“Then Charlotte is his trigger. Messengers often see things they want the most; like an oasis in a desert.”

  
“A mirage,” Lucifer adds. How odd that desire can be used as entrapment.

  
Amenadiel nods. They both turn back to Daniel and watch him. He watches them in return, still unmoving, still unfeeling.

  
“Shall we?” Amenadiel says, “we are working on a clock here.”

  
Lucifer nods and walks back to the bar to pick up his drink.

  
“Speak,” he says forcefully, before taking a large sip.

  
Daniel’s eyes move to Lucifer and lock on to him. His head tilts as if he is reading a letter. When he finally speaks, the voice that comes out is Daniels, but there is a choir of other voices inside of it that speak clearly.

  
“The Shepard has found its flock in the den of wolves,” he says.

  
Lucifer scoffs and sets his glass down, “Why do they always speak in riddles?” he asks Amenadial.

  
Amenadiel chuckles.

  
“He’s saying that Abel has found a willing audience. It’s going to be harder to get to him knowing he has followers, or at least people charmed enough by him that they would willingly defend him.”

  
“Yes, but what followers? A church perhaps?” he asks. Amenadiel shrugs.

  
Lucifer turns back to Daniel and sighs. He leans up against the bar, his brain trying hard to put the pieces together.

  
“I never met him as a mortal, but I heard of his charm. He could convince even the most suspicious to lay down their sword,” Lucifer says.

  
Amenadiel nods.

  
“That kind of charm can go a long way in this city,” Amenadiel says.

  
Lucifer nods and looks back towards Daniel. Daniel just stands there watching them, not responding and not even appearing to think.  
He scoffs again and takes a sip of his drink.

  
“Why can’t they just speak English? This would be so much easier if they weren’t trying to create haikus.”

  
Amenadiel smiles, “Hey, don’t ask me. I’m not the one in charge of the messengers.”

  
Lucifer looks towards Amenadiel, a look in his eye that says he’s starting to put two and two together. Amenadiel’s smile fades, he isn’t sure how to take that look. It might be a good thing, or …

  
Suddenly, Lucifer pushes himself off the bar and walks up to Daniel.

  
“adhibete moderatorem,” he says with intent. Daniel looks at him for a moment, then blinks twice. When his eyes reopen, instead of being all white, there is a pale blue where his iris’s should be.

He looks around for a moment before locking eyes on Lucifer. His eyes are icy blue and cold, but Deep within them, there is the warmth of recognition. A smile comes across his face as if he were seeing an old friend.

“Samael,” he says, in a singular voice that is not Daniel’s, “quite the unexpected appearance.”

Lucifer cringes at that name. Daniel notices and chuckles, “Ah, I forgot,” he said.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Lucifer?” he says, correcting his naming faux-pas.

“A messenger to this city has died. I’d like to know what message he was delivering.”

Daniel looks at him for a moment, staring blankly and says nothing. Lucifer turns back to Amenadiel who looks on warily. Contacting the controller was a capability everyone in the Silver City had, but it was rarely used. Iridius didn’t like to be bothered by earthly affairs. Lucifer turns back to Daniel who stares ahead blankly. Finally, there is a look of life inside his eyes again, and he turns his glance to Lucifer.

“I cannot do that,” he finally says, “that message was not intended for you.”

Lucifer nods, “I am aware, but surely you can bend the rules. A decree was broken, and I intend to enact punishment on those who were involved.”

Daniel smiles a knowing smile,” Surely you are not insisting the means justify the ends, brother?”

“That is exactly what I am insisting,” Lucifer replies.

Daniel laughs, and shakes his head, “I see not much has changed.”

“So will you tell me?” Lucifer says, “I seem to have a lack of time at the moment.”

Daniels smile fades, “You know I cannot do that.”

“Well, what can you do?” Amenadiel says, standing up from the back.

Daniel’s eyes turn to Amenadiel and the smile returns, “Amenadiel!” he says, “Oh what a lovely surprise.” His eyebrows scrunch for a moment, and he turns back to Lucifer. Then back to Amenadiel.

“I did not know you abandoned the Silver City?” He asks, a curious tone to his voice.

“I did not abandon the Silver City, Iridius. I am here to save mortal lives.”

He nods, “Oh, an odd task for an angel of your stature but … his will be done.”

“So can you help us?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Daniel pauses for a moment.

  
“I cannot tell you what the message was, but I can tell you who the message was intended for,” he says.

  
Lucifer nods, “That will work. Who?”

  
Daniel nods and pauses. He hums for a moment, then a look of confusion falls over his face.

  
Daniel turns to Lucifer, “This is odd..”

  
“What is it, brother?” Amenadiel asks, his interest piqued.

  
“The message was intended for a mortal,” Daniel says.

  
Amenadiel mimics the confusion on Daniel’s face.

  
“A mortal? Messengers don’t visit mortals,” Amenadiel says.

  
Daniel shrugs,” I don’t write the messages, I just sort them.”

  
“Which mortal?” Lucifer asks.

  
Daniel pauses for a moment as if reading off a document, “One Chloe Decker?” he says.

  
Lucifer’s heart stops. A heat wave crosses over his body. He’s not sure, but it feels like fear.

  
“Who sent the message?” Lucifer asks a sudden urgency and anger in his voice. Whoever sent that message put Chloe in danger. Enough danger that its carrier was killed for it.

  
“What?” Daniel says.

  
“The message. The message for Chloe Decker. Who sent it?”

  
Daniel pauses for a moment. He turns back to Lucifer.

  
“Michael.”

  
Lucifer’s blood runs cold. He stumbles back slightly and has to steady himself on the couch. Why would Michael be sending a message to Chloe? And why would that message get Andrew killed? His heart begins to race. This feeling, this odd feeling that washes over him, this is fear. He stands up; he has to move his legs. Otherwise, this feeling will completely eat him alive.

  
They all sit in silence for a moment. Daniel just watches them. Lucifer is pacing, his head racing with a million thoughts per second. What if he hadn’t given Chloe Cassius? What if Cassius was the only reason she hadn’t fallen into harm right now? Why would Michael be sending a message to Chloe? Why didn’t he mention it when they saw each other? What is he hiding? Is this part of Father’s plan? He should talk to Chloe; he should _really_ talk to her. But after today at the precinct … he pauses. Why would he want to talk to her? Why should he speak to her? Even in his anger, he knows that is foolish. He should talk to her.

  
“Is that all brothers?” Daniel asks, knocking Lucifer out of his reeling.

  
Amenadiel nods, “Thank you Iridius. Until we meet again.”

  
Daniel nods and blinks. The pale blue in his eyes are gone, and they return to their stark white.

  
“So what are we going to do about him?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer turns to Daniel to see him standing there unfeeling and staring straight forward. He closes his eyes, to try and erase the feelings that are tearing him apart. Guilt over Daniel, Fear over Chloe, Confusion about Michael…

  
“He’s a messenger,” he finally says, his voice thick with defeat, "I was so sure I had found Ezria’s vessel. Now we are nowhere close to finding Abel, and the city is one day closer to complete destruction.”

  
Amenadiel nods, “Now is now the time to feel overwhelmed, Brother.”

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadiel,” I’m not overwhelmed I’m just … upset.”

  
Amenadiel says nothing. Lucifer sighs and kicks one of the stools of his bar over on its side.

  
“So what will we do about Daniel?” Amenadiel asks again. Lucifer turns back to Daniel, who remains silently watching them and takes a sip of his drink.

  
“We have to remove his trigger,” he says.

  
Amenadiel says nothing but looks on. He knows Lucifer is right, but it feels wrong.

"But we will give him the choice," Lucifer says, feeling wrong about it as well.

"It will be up to him whether he forgets Charlotte or not." Amenadiel nods. They are in agreeance.

  
Lucifer turns to the bar and picks up his drink. He looks up briefly to Daniel and takes a sip of his drink.

  
“Go,” Lucifer says.

  
Suddenly Daniel's eyes pop back down, and it is clear it is him again. He looks around, confused about where he is standing. He could have sworn he was just on the balcony. He looks to see Amenadiel and Lucifer looking at him. He sighs a look of sadness in his eyes.

  
“I did it again, didn’t I?” he asks.

  
Amenadiel walks over to Daniel and puts his hands on his shoulder.

  
“Do you want the good news? Or the bad news?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Daniel looks at him, not certain he wants either.

  
\--

  
Chloe leans against the doorway of Trixie’s bedroom. Inside, Trixie is tucked into bed and is sleeping soundly. On the ground nearby rests bubbles, who is curled up into his own bed and silently sleeping. Chloe smiles lovingly before taking a step back and gently closing the door.

  
She walks to the front door and jiggles the handle to make sure it's locked. Satisfied, she turns off the light and heads up the stairs towards her bedroom. Inside her bedroom, she gently closes the door then takes off the light sweater she had been wearing and tosses it to a nearby chair. She lets go a silent yawn. She scratches her head as she walks to the bed and sits down on its edge.

  
She knows it's been a long day; her body will not tell her otherwise. The past few days have gone by so fast, almost like it were a blur.   
She yawns again and stretches her arms straight out before standing and peeling her shirt off. She tosses it onto the bed. Slowly, she walks to the bathroom and reaches into the shower to turn on the water. She feels it to make sure it is becoming warm, then - satisfied with the slow rise in temperature – begins to take off her clothes.

First, she unbuttons the clasp on her pants before peeling those off and kicking them into a nearby hamper. Then, she reaches back and undoes the clasp on her bra, releasing her breasts from their cotton confinement. Lastly, she hooks her thumbs beneath the waistband of her underwear and lowers them to her ankles before balling them up and tossing them into the nearby hamper.

  
Fully nude now, she steps into the shower and slides the glass door behind her.

  
The water cascades down her body and relaxes every muscle it touches. She sighs in relief, not realizing how tense she was. Her eyes close and she reaches her hands out to the tile wall to steady herself beneath the warm water. The water is revitalizing. She finds new energy beneath its cascade. She begins to feel more like herself and less like …

  
She pauses. _Less like who_? She reaches up and wipes the water away from her face so she can see. Her eyes open and she reaches for a washcloth and begins to wipe down every inch of her body her skin feels clean and exfoliated. Once done, she reaches over and grabs a bottle of shampoo before squirting a small portion into her hand. She massages this into her hairs until the suds threaten to fall into her eyes.

She then puts her head back under the water and washes it all away. Over her shoulder, down her back, behind her legs and into the drain. She closes her eyes again, basking in the warmth of the shower and feeling revitalized.

  
Behind her, the glass door has begun to fog. She keeps her head inside the water flow, sighing as the heat relaxes her further. Unbeknownst to her, a handprint slowly starts to appear on the glass door. It is large and broad and clearly belongs to a man. Then, another one slowly appears above it.  
Chloe raises her head up and let’s the water hit her face. She brings her hand up and wipes the excess off and back into her hair.

  
The glass door behind her now has four handprints that lead all the way to the top of the door. The very first handprint has started to fog over, but the fingers can still distinctly be seen.

  
Suddenly, Chloe feels a tingling on her head, like something is crawling on her scalp. She reaches her hands up, prepared to swat away a spider or a bug. Instead, her hands run over a soft fleshy bump. Her face contorts into confusion.

  
_What the_?

  
She brings up her other hand to split her hairs and get better access to whatever this is. She runs her hand over the bump again, but this time there is three. Then five. Then, the bumps extend into long fleshy appendages. It occurs to her a little too late that what she is feeling is another hand.

  
Her eyes widen in horror, and all the hairs on her body stand on edge. The hand grasps onto her right wrist and holds on tightly. She takes her left hand and tries to peel it away from her wrist. It is too strong to pull away, so instead she digs her nails into the hand. She cries out. It is hurting her. She digs them so deep she can feel the flesh ripping and the warm drip of blood. The hand lets go and Chloe yanks her right hand away. She looks down at her wrist and sees the very distinct outline of fingers.

  
“You left me no choice,” a voice suddenly says somewhere in her right ear. She jumps and turns to see no one is there. She looks around momentarily before shutting the shower off and stepping onto a rug. She grabs a towel nearby and wraps it around her body, looking around her bathroom. _This isn’t right,_  she repeats to herself. Her first instinct is to run to Lucifer, but … it seems like every time she does something happens that prevents her from speaking to him. It's almost as if something or someone were keeping them from talking.

  
She approaches her sink and wipes the mist away from the mirror revealing her nose has started to bleed again.  
“What the ..” she says as she leans in and wipes the blood with her hand. Why does she keep having nose bleeds? She raises her nostrils with her hand to see if she might have a cut inside her nose, but nothing is there. She runs the faucet and wipes the blood away with a washcloth. Then she reaches for a bottle of lotion and squirts a few dollops into her hand. She begins to lotion down her arms and shoulders. She then moves her hair aside and starts to lotion her upper back. She stops when her hand rolls over a raised edge. Her face switches to confusion.

  
_What was that?_

  
She turns her body to the side so she can get a better view and notices a small scar peeking from outside her towel.

  
“What is that?” she asks herself. She loosens the towel and allows it to drop to the floor. She then turns her body entirely so that most of her back can be seen from the mirror. She sets her hair to the side, and her eyes widen. There, down her back is a giant scar shaped like the tail of a serpent. It climbs from her tailbone, slithers across her spine and curves up to her right shoulder. It looks incomplete, like a tattoo not yet finished by its artist.

  
“What the fuck?” she asks.

  
“There’s no point in resisting now,” a voice says. She turns to see the man she’s been seeing in her dreams sitting on the closed lid of her toilet. He eyes her up and down like a lion eyes a steak.

  
“I can see why he likes you so much,” he says, “your mortal bodies were built for one thing.”

  
Chloe scrambles for her towel and backs away towards the door.

  
She turns quickly to open it and run only to find the man standing in front of the door.

  
“I told you I get what I want,” he says almost apologetically, “I asked you kindly but you ignored me. So, you left me no choice.”

  
“What do you want?!” she screams.

  
He looks at her oddly, as if he weren’t certain why she was upset.

  
“I want my freedom. I told you that.”

  
“Then go!” she says, pointing to the door, ” just go!”

  
“I don’t understand, are you giving me permission?” he asks.

  
“Yes! Just go!” she says in a panic.

  
He smiles a smile that curves almost too far up his mouth.

  
Chloe holds the towel close to her chest, her knuckles turning white from how hard she is gripping it. A water droplet from her hair drips into her eyes, and she blinks to clear it. By the time it is clear the man is gone, and she stands by herself in the bathroom. She turns to the mirror to see herself, her eyes wide with fear. Her heart is beating fast.

  
_What is happening?_

  
\--

  
Daniel sits on Lucifer’s couch, his eyes staring off into the distance. He closes his eyes as if he’s seen something he doesn’t want to see and shakes his head.

  
“ I hate to be that guy Lucifer,” he says, turning to Lucifer, “but not only do I not see how this is helping me, but I think maybe this whole thing has completely jumped the shark. Angels? You being the actual devil? Me being some … heavenly form of email?” he stands up and raises his hands.

  
“This is too much. I think I’m going to figure this out on my own. You’re just confusing me even more.”

  
He moves towards the elevator and presses the down button.

  
“Daniel,” Lucifer says.

  
“What?” Daniel says, angry that his time has been wasted. How is he going to figure out this whole thing if Lucifer keeps trying to drag Daniel into his egotistical narcissism? The Devil? _Really_? He turns to face Lucifer, and his eyes widen; his body stills.

  
There, in the living room, splayed out behind Lucifer are the most luminescent wings he has ever seen. His eyes widen and his jaw slacks a slight bit.  
“I…but,” he says, his mind wanting to solidify so many thoughts but only able to focus on how beautiful they are. He stumbles forwards like a drunk patron from a bar in the wee hours of the morning.

  
His eyes can’t look away from them.

  
“I …they … they’re so … beautiful” he says, trying to gather his thoughts but unable to. Lucifer smiles. _This_ is how mortals should react. He takes a second to enjoy the adoration before folding his wings back. Daniel lets out a soft cry, almost as if whining about the absence of Lucifer’s wings. He catches himself, aware of how he sounds. Then he becomes all too aware of what this means.

  
Lucifer is _actually_ the devil. The Devil; really. He is standing in the Devil’s penthouse. He feels dizzy under the weight of his revelation, and his stomach begins to turn. He turns to see Amenadiel standing behind him at the bar, holding out a drink for him. He turns back to the living room, wasn’t Amenadiel just standing there?

  
He turns back to Amenadiel, who smiles at him softly as if taking pity on him. Gently, he reaches out a shaking hand and grasps the glass before downing the drink in one big gulp.

  
“Now do you believe me?” Lucifer says.

  
Daniel eyes him, sipping the drink from his lips. He nods, his eyes never leaving Lucifer; both filled with fear and curiosity.

  
“Excellent,” Lucifer says, sighing. He crosses over to the bar to get his own drink. Daniel moves out of his way, watching him with every move, “get them out now so we can move on, yeah?”

  
Daniel shakes his head, “Wh- what?” he asks, his voice cracking.

  
Lucifer sighs, “Your questions Daniel. Get them out now so we can move on; we don’t have much time.”

  
Daniel is taken back. Where does he even start?

  
“Why Los Angeles?” he asks.

  
Lucifer turns to him and lets out a curious grunt, “That’s an interesting first question, one whose answer I thought was obvious. It’s the city of fallen angels, and you’re standing in front of the most famous one.” Lucifer raises a glass to him then takes a sip.

  
“There’s more of you?” he asks curiously.

  
“I don’t think he paid attention in Sunday school,” Amenadiel says with a chuckle. Lucifer smiles and sets his glass down on the bar.

  
“They never do,” he says in response. He approaches Daniel and sets his hands on his shoulder. Daniel’s body tingles with electricity, his fight or flight meter is going off the roof. Deep down, though, he knows Lucifer wouldn’t harm him. If he wanted to, he would have already.

  
“Daniel,” he says in a soft, reassuring tone, “Do you know what it is like to lead hell since the dawn of time? Watching endless mortal after mortal punish themselves? Watching them stew in their own guilt and anxiety? Quite frankly it’s exhausting.”

  
He takes his hand off of Daniel's shoulders and goes back to the bar.

  
“I just needed … a break,” he says.

  
Daniel relaxes. He’s known Lucifer for long enough to get a feel for who he is. He’s quite a few things, spontaneous, selfish, narcissistic, but … he never saw him as dangerous. Why would that change now? _Should_ that change now? If he was right about being the Devil then, what else was he right about?

  
“So,“ Daniel says, so many questions still bouncing around in his mind, “Charlotte isn’t haunting me?” he asks.

  
Lucifer shakes his head, “I’m afraid it’s a cruel celestial ploy meant to trick you into delivering messages.”

  
“Why me?” Daniel asks.

  
“It could be several things,” Amenadiel jumps in, “sometimes messengers are assigned for specific duties. Most of the time, it’s a descendant thing. Passed down through generations.”

  
Daniel nods and stares off. 

  
“I never knew my father,” he says.

  
“The life of a messenger is …hard,” Lucifer says, his eyes lowering as he thinks about Andrew.

  
Daniel squints his eyes, “does that mean …Trixie?” he says.

  
Amenadial shakes his head, “Women are never messengers. Messengers need to be able to travel, sometimes long distances, unseen and untouched. Women, unfortunately, don’t have the luxury of being able to walk at night with little more than a passing glance.”  
Daniel sighs.

  
“So that’s it then? I’m some sort of carrier pigeon for you guys from now on?”

  
“Unless we turn off your trigger,” Amenadiel says. Lucifer looks towards Amenadial. He wasn’t going to mention that. Daniel would never agree to something like that.

  
“What trigger?” Daniel says, his interest piqued as he sees how uncomfortable Amenadiel has made Lucifer.

  
Lucifer sighs, “Each messenger has a trigger. It forces them to answer the call. If we can remove your trigger, then we remove the calling.”

  
Daniel smiles, “well that’s great! Why didn’t you lead with that?”

  
Lucifer looks at Amenadiel, their eyes are heavy with secrets and seem to ask each other with just a glance who should be the bearer of bad news.

  
“what?” Daniel says, worried at how they are looking at each other.

  
“Your trigger is Charlotte,” Lucifer says, “to remove it we’d have to erase your memory of her completely. You won’t remember her name, her voice, her scent; you will have no recollection of the time you spent together.”

  
“It would be like she never existed to you,” Amenadiel says.

  
Daniel pauses, and his eyes drop, “Oh,” he says, taking a seat on the couch.

  
He sits in silent for a moment, thinking about it.

  
“What is my other option?” he asks.

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “You spend the rest of your days trying your hardest to ignore her when she comes. The longer she’s there, the harder it will be to resist.”

  
Daniel shakes his head and closes his eyes. Lucifer can make out the glisten of a tear falling from one of his eyes. He doesn’t know how to respond to this. He looks at Amenadial who stares on in pity.

  
“I don’t want to forget her,” Daniel says solemnly, breaking the silence.

  
“I know,” Lucifer says.

  
“But I can’t leave Trixie,” Daniel says, staring up at Lucifer, “I saw what not having a father growing up was like, and I promised I would be better for her.”  
Lucifer nods, “I know it is hard Daniel, but this is the only way.”

  
Daniel nods. He sits in silence for a moment before wiping away his tears and standing up.

  
“Okay, what do I need to do?” he asks. Lucifer turns to Amenadiel and Amenadiel approaches Daniel.

  
“Close your eyes,” he says.

  
Daniel reluctantly closes his eyes. Amenadiel reaches back and pulls a feather from his wings. He raises it to Daniel and presses it hard into Daniel’s forehead. The feather glows a bright white and disintegrates into Daniel’s skin. His face falls from pained, to a quiet and empty comfort. His body slowly relaxes and falls onto the couch behind him.

  
Lucifer takes a sip of his drink as he watches. Amenadial attempts to place Daniel in a more comfortable position as he falls deeper into a restful sleep. When Daniel wakes, he won't remember anything about Charlotte. Her name will not ring a bell, and he will have no association with her. Amenadiel turns to Lucifer.

  
“I guess I should go remove all her photos from his apartment,” he says.

  
Lucifer nods, “He will be out for a while, we will have time. Right now we need to focus on Ezria.”

  
Amenadiel nods and turns back to Daniel. “What do we do now? Daniel was our only lead.”

  
Lucifer sighs and takes a sip, a look that indicates he too is stumped by this problem. They don’t have the time to be stumped. He becomes angry with himself. How could he have gotten the signs so wrong? He had been so confident Daniel was Ezria’s vessel. If Daniel isn’t, then _who is_?

  
Just then the elevator dings and both Amenadiel and Lucifer turn to see Chloe standing in the open elevator. Lucifer looks surprised, but Amenadiel does not. She steps into the penthouse, and the doors close behind her.

  
Her hair is wet as if she just got out of the shower and her face is scrunched up with worry. Lucifer sets his drink down, trying not to betray the mass of confusion he feels. He is happy to see her, but also angry. He wants to hold her, but also push her away.

  
She sees the look on his face and brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  
“We need to talk,” she says.

 


	11. Too Close to be Objective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that the new Season is coming out in a few weeks. I'm excited but also very sad. I had a whole story arc planned for this, but would rather let the new seasons speak for itself. So, as planned I'm going to roll out the last few chapters of this storyline over the next two weeks. Sorry if the chapters feel not as detailed as the previous ones. I'm having to condense a lot of information into them to get the story out before the new season. The final chapter will be pretty smutty, so if you aren't interested in that I would suggest ending your reading at Chapter 16. Otherwise, see you then!

Chloe walks down the sidewalk to the front of LUX. LUX doesn't open up for another hour, but there is already a line forming of people waiting for the club to open. The bodyguard sees her walking up and – without saying a word – opens the gate to the front of LUX.

She tosses him a soft smile, “Thanks Jeremy,” she says.

He nods and closes the gate behind her.

  
As she steps foot inside the club, she sees LUX employees buzzing around trying to get the last details just right before the opening; they don’t even notice her enter. The club is empty and quiet, but somehow still moving. It mimics what is going on inside her. She feels like she is in control, but there is something just behind the gate, threatening to take over. Yes, something is wrong, something is _very_ wrong. She moves her legs towards the penthouse elevator, each step heavier than the last. It is as if led weights are glued to the bottom of her shoes.

  
_SSSSSSStop resisting_ , a voice says in her head; the s’s slithering across her brain like a trickling stream.

  
She closes her eyes, trying hard to block it out before opening them and moving forward. She reaches the elevator and presses the button. She feels a sharp pain on the back of her neck, followed by a ringing. Like someone has taken the whole universe and put it inside a bell.

  
She cries out, holding her head as she steadies herself on the wall. This ringing and feeling continues for what feels like an eternity crescendoing into an unfamiliar pain. Suddenly, the elevator dings and the doors open and everything is back to normal; the world is steady and there is no shaking. Her legs feel normal and everything feels … still again.

She looks around warily before stepping into the elevator and pressing the up button. The elevator takes her straight up to the penthouse, and when the doors open, she is faced with Amenadiel and Lucifer. Lucifer looks surprised to see her, while Amenadiel seems annoyed. Suddenly she feels like she is imposing. She hadn’t thought Lucifer would be busy, and why that thought hadn’t occurred to her … she can’t say.

  
She steps forward shyly. She hadn’t really spoken with Lucifer much since the night they spent together. It all seems like such a long time ago, but she knows it had only been a few days. He turns to her and steps forward slightly.

  
“We need to talk,” she says.

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadiel who sighs and walks towards the bar stool to sit.

  
Lucifer turns back to her. There is so much he wants to say but ... where does he start?

  
“Now is not the best time,” he says,” we are in the middle of something.”

Chloe’s eyes fall to a pair of feet sticking off the edge of Lucifer’s sofa. Her eye curiously follow them up the torso and onto Daniel’s face. Her eyes widen, and she nearly pushes Lucifer aside to go to Daniel.

  
“What happened?!” she asks, kneeling before Daniel and rubbing his face. She checks his pulse to make sure he is still alive and sighs when she feels a strong and steady pulse.

  
“He’s just sleeping it off,” Lucifer says.

  
She turns to him, “Sleeping _what_ off?”

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadiel who just shakes his head as if to say he isn’t involved in this. Chloe is Lucifer’s domain.

  
Lucifer turns back to Chloe who is expecting an answer. When the look on his face tells her he doesn’t really intend to tell her, she stands up and crosses her arms.

  
“Lucifer, sleeping off what?” she says sternly, like a school teacher who just caught a student eating glue.

  
Lucifer sighs, he might as well tell her. Chloe wasn’t the type to not be in the know. He had tried that once, and he led her right into the arms of Cain.

  
“Fine,” he says reluctantly, “ Daniel was experiencing some troubling disturbances which led him to becoming a messenger and we had to remove his memory of Charlotte to prevent that.”

  
Chloe pauses. She raises her eyebrows and closes her eyes, trying to process what she just heard.

  
“I’m sorry,” she says, holding a hand out, “Let’s back up. Daniel became a messenger? Like … white eyes messenger?”

  
Lucifer nods, “Correct.”

  
“And you had to remove Charlotte from his memory to … prevent that?” she asks.

  
Amenadiel decides to jump in, “Don’t worry he says, we got his permission first.”

  
Chloe grabs her head and shakes it. It’s too much. She tries to push that thought out of her mind.

  
“Okay,” she says, realizing there are other things that need to be discussed, “we need to talk,” she repeats.

  
“Detective, I’m sure whatever it is can wait –“ he begins.

  
“No!” she interrupts sternly, her anger rising again, “I _need_ you to listen to me.”

  
Lucifer looks at her oddly, a frustration rising within him.

  
“I just,” she says, calming down, "I need to talk to you, and this can’t wait,” she says, realizing this might be her last chance to tell him what she needs to. If she doesn’t do it now, she might not be able to.

  
“Why?” Lucifer says snapping back, “So you can tell me how much you hate me?”

  
Chloe is taken back.

  
“What?” she asks, the confusion and hurt in her voice.

  
“So you can tell me how selfish and imperfect I am? So you can call me an asshole? So you can tell me how you wish you never met me?” Lucifer says, his voice rising.

  
Chloe can’t believe what she is hearing.

  
“Lucifer,” she says softly while approaching him, placing her hands on his face. He recoils from her, and the hurt in her voice becomes palpable.

  
“I would _never_ say that to you,” she says. Lucifer turns to her, and their eyes meet. He sees it there in her eyes, the truth. She isn’t lying to him. She would never say those things.

  
He shakes his head no, the weight of his realization coming to him in one hard-hitting wave.

  
“No, you wouldn’t,” he says, wondering how he could have been so blind. The answer was right there in front of him the entire time, but he was too close to see it.

  
“But Ezria would,” he says finishing his sentence. Amenadiel stands up from his stool, realizing what Lucifer is saying.

  
Chloe’s expression falls from concern and worry to one that suggests she just heard something she wishes she hadn’t. She closes her eyes, her face tight with trying to block it out; trying to block _something_ out. Her shoulders tighten and her whole body and her hands ball into a fist like she is fighting something or someone.

  
“How long have you been here,” Lucifer says, his voice stern. Suddenly, Chloe's whole body relaxes, and she looks up. Chloe opens her eyes to reveal they are entirely black. She smiles an unnatural smile and steps back away from Lucifer.

  
“What gave it away?” she asks in a voice that is not hers. She is now wholly Ezria.

  
Mere seconds ago, it had been a hunch, a piecing together of clues he had missed, but now – faced with a fully possess Chloe – it had been all too real. Lucifer steps back, his breath taken away. He is in shock. Amenadiel steps forward, fully understanding the weight of what is happening.

  
“It was the anger, wasn’t it?” Chloe says in Ezria’s voice. She backs up, completely to the other side of the couch now and chuckles to herself, “ I just couldn’t contain it well enough, I guess. You just make us so ... angry” He says.

  
\---

  
Ella shuts the door to her car and presses a button on her keychain. The car’s front lights blink, and it emits a beep to indicate it's locked. She walks around the front onto the sidewalk a few feet from the front of LUX and puts her keys in her purse. It’s only 10:00 p.m., but the line in front of LUX curves around a block or two. Men and women dressed in their most elegant clothes wait patiently for the doors to open and party for the night. She approaches a bouncer out front who sees her and smiles.

  
“Hey Chica!” the man says. She smiles and hugs him.

  
“You here to see the boss man or party?” he asks.

  
“I’m here to see Lucifer,” she says. He nods and unlocks a gate that covers the entrance to LUX. She walks in, and he closes it behind her. A woman from the front of the line yells, “Hey! I’m here to see Lucifer too!”

  
The guard tosses her a look, then stares forward blankly.

  
Once inside, Ella begins to head to the penthouse elevator.

  
“Ella!” a voice yells at her from the bar near the dance floor. She turns to see Maze happily sipping on a beer. If Maze is here drinking a beer, it must be a simple party. Why would Lucifer need her at there so late?

  
Maze takes her beer and runs up the steps.

  
“What are you doing here? We aren’t supposed to be having our girls night out thing for another week,” Maze says, happy to see her.

  
“Lucifer said he needed me for an exorcism or something, “she says, “I have no idea what that means but … he sounded serious.”

  
Maze’s face falls, “It’s means exorcism,” she says.

  
Ella rolls her eyes, “I mean like, in real people talk. Not in Lucifer’s allegory’s.” Maze takes a large swig of her beer and grabs Ella's arm. This is going to be too entertaining to not watch. She leads her to the elevator.”

  
“It’s all real, Ella,” she says as the presses the button. She looks down and sees a bottle sticking out of Ella’s purse. Ellas watches her eye site and looks down.

  
“Oh,” she says, pulling the bottle out of her purse, “I brought wine …you know, just in case.”

  
“You brought wine to an exorcism?” she asks confused.

  
Ella chuckles, “Will you stop saying that? It’s not an exorcism!”

  
The elevator dings and Maze steps in.

  
“If you say so, kid.”

  
Ella steps in behind her and presses the up button.

  
“Just don’t drop the bottle,” Maze says as the doors close.

  
\--

  
Lucifer stumbles back, his piano catching him. His eyes are wide with horror.

  
Ezria smiles.

  
“Do I have your attention now, Brother?” he asks.

  
Lucifer’s face switches from horror to rage. He steps forward, “You have more than my attention brother,” he says, “you have my wrath.”

  
He reaches out to Grab Ezria, but Amenadial jumps in and stops him.

  
“Lucifer!” he says,” It’s still Chloe.”

  
Lucifer stops in his tracks. Amenadiel is right, no matter how much he wants to hurt Ezria, he can’t risk hurting Chloe. Ezria smiles, knowing that he has Lucifer exactly where he wants him.

  
“That’s right,” he says, pacing casually behind Lucifer’s couch and running his fingers – or rather, Chloe’s fingers – along the side of its Italian leather.

  
“Don’t want to harm your precious Chloe,” he says. He turns to Lucifer and can see the flame smoldering behind his eyes.

  
“She is precious to you, isn’t she?” he asks. Lucifer doesn’t reply. Amenadiel stares on, holding Lucifer back. How far will Ezria take this?

  
He stops on the other side of the couch, closest to the open balcony. Lucifer doesn’t reply; he just tightens his jaw.

  
“I only ask because well… she thinks about you an awful lot. Perhaps, maybe too much,” he says reaching down and picking up a book from the coffee table. He leafs through it momentarily, then sets it back down.

  
“And the things she thinks? At night, when she is alone … and her hands are free.” He raises his eyebrows – again, still Chloe’s – to suggest he’d rather not say what they were. They were too … _salacious_. Amenadiel slowly backs away from Lucifer, testing whether he can let him go. When Lucifer doesn’t move from his spot, he turns to Ezria.

  
“What do you want Ezria? What is your plan here?” Amenadiel says.

  
Ezria turns to Amenadiel.

  
“Amenadial,” he says, “my quarry is not with you brother, but with Lucifer,” he says, walking closer to Lucifer; tempting the lion.

  
“What I want is to inflict as much pain on him as I possibly can before I inevitably end up back in the cellar where he has locked me all these years. I want to know what it is about mortals that is so much more important than his own brother,” he says, a rage rising in his voice.

  
Lucifer still says nothing. He just watches on, a fire in his eyes and his jaws clenched. He knows he can’t touch Ezria without harming Chloe, but he needs time to think. He needs Ella.

  
“Why do you care so much? You do care for her, don’t you? We both _really_ want to know,” Ezria says, now standing inches away from Lucifer.

  
Lucifer doesn’t budge. He turns his eyes away, not wanting to release what little control he has of his anger.

  
“Tell me, brother” Ezria says, still poking the bear, “how does it feel knowing I was inside her before you?”

  
With that, the last strands of Lucifer’s patience are lost. He quickly reaches out and wraps one hand around Chloe’s throat. Ezria laughs and chokes at the same time.  
Amenadiel steps in.

  
“Lucier! Stop!” he says, trying to pry away Lucifer’s hand. It’s no use, Lucifer’s eyes are lit aflame and he’s overcome with rage.

  
The darkness in Chloe’s eyes disappear. She looks around for a moment, uncertain of where she is.

  
“Lucifer?” she says in her own soft voice, “You’re hurting me.” Lucifer’s eyes immediately go dull, and he let’s go. She grabs her neck and bends over, gasping for air.

  
“Detective?” he says, his voice indicating his immediate regret.

  
Chloe’s choking turns to laughter as she stands back up. Her eyes are black again; it’s Ezria. He pauses, his facial expression taunting Lucifer anymore.

  
“Too easy,” he says.

  
The fire re-ignites in Lucifer’s eyes and Amenadiel steps in between them again.

  
Just then the elevator dings. All three turn to the elevator just as the doors open to see Maze and Ella step into the penthouse. Maze smiles and takes a swig of her beer, when her eyes meet Chloe’s, to find them entirely black, her smiles fades, and the beer almost gets caught in her throat. Meanwhile, Ella catches Lucifer’s glance first and smiles. Her eyes then go to Chloe, and he has to do a double take. Then it all makes sense

  
“Oh! Is this like a murder mystery party? But like … with your own spin on it? Oh, I'm’ so glad I brought wine.” she says, turning to Maze.

Ella attempts to walk up close to Chloe, but Lucifer puts his arms out, preventing her from getting too close. She looks at him oddly then turns to Chloe. Something is off about her, but she can’t put her finger on it.

  
“Are those colored contacts?” she asks, staring into Chloe’s eyes, “those are really cool! They look so real. Where did you get those?”

  
Ezria looks at Lucifer, with a look that insinuates he is insulted a mortal would speak to him.

  
“Do you not have locks on earth?,” he says with a devious grin, “I might know of where you can find some.” Ezria let’s go a laugh that is unlike anything Ella has ever heard.

  
When Ella hears Ezria’s voice come from out of Chloe, it dawns on her that this isn’t Chloe. Her eyes widen in horror.

  
This is an _actual_ exorcism. In shock, her grip loosens on the wine bottle. Maze, seeing this and being prepared, races forward and grabs it just as it is about to hit the ground. She stands up triumphantly and raises the bottle, “Got it!”

  
Ella backs away in horror.

  
“Ezria, you must stop this. You have no right to interfere with mortal affairs,” Amenadiel says.

  
Ezria frowns, “You still think this is about mortals? You have no idea what it was like locked in that cage!”

  
“You deserve to be locked in a cage,” Lucifer says through his teeth, “and the first chance I get I will toss you back in.”

  
“I am not your pet!” Ezria screams, a deepness to his voice, “I am not one of your demons to command! I am your equal Samael! I am your brother!” Chloe’s nose starts to bleed again.

  
“You are not my brother,” Lucifer says, “you are a monster.”

  
Ezria pauses, it is clear he feels hurt by that.

  
“I am no more a monster than you are,” he finally says, his words thick with the truth.

  
“I defended you!” Lucifer screams, “I threw myself under the knife to protect you, and this is how you repay me?”

  
Ezria pauses, his eyes squint to suggest he didn’t know that.

  
“You’re lying,” he says.

  
“What need would I have to lie to you brother,” he says, ”Why do you think the mortals believe I was the one in the garden?” he asks.

Ella’s eyes widen. Either this is a very intricate murder mystery, or she has stumbled into something beyond her paygrade. Are they _actually_ talking about the garden of Eden? More so, does that mean Lucifer is _actually_ the devil?

  
Ezria shakes his head, “No, no everyone knows that was me,” he says.

  
Amenadiel jumps in, “You were written out of that particular part,” he says, “Lucifer was blamed for that.”

  
Lucifer nods, “I am vilified for your trespasses and I willingly did so to protect you. Yet, this is what you do in return?”

  
“You locked me in a cage!” Ezria screams again, not understanding why no one understands that concept.

  
“You left me no choice!” Lucifer replies, “What did you think would happen after you ruined mortals?”

  
“I only did what I was told!” he yells, tired of defending his actions.

  
Lucifer and Amenadial turn to each other, then back to Ezria and pause. Lucifer’s rage suddenly dissipates and Amenadiel knits his brow. The room is silent and thick with questions.

  
“No,” Amenadiel says,” no that’s not true.”

  
Ezria nods, “I was young. I wanted father’s approval, and just like every other angel, I was an obedient son. I just … I did what I was told.”

  
“Father told you to tempt Eve, not to push her into disobeying him,” Lucifer says.

  
“You have no idea what Father told me; you weren’t there!” Ezria says.

  
Amenadiel steps forward, wanting to make sure he is hearing this right.

  
“Ezria,” he says calmly. Ezria turns to Amenadiel.

  
“What exactly were you commanded to do?”

  
Ezria pauses and thinks, it’s been an eternity since that time. Still, he’s had nothing to do but think about it every single second, of every single hour of every single long and excruciating day.

  
“I was told to tempt the mortals into eating from the tree of knowledge,” he says, “they were created to be perfect, angelic even. But father didn’t want to create new angels, he wanted something more … chaotic; uncontrollable. He wanted to be surprised by an ever changing, ever evolving being. He wanted to be a …”  
Ezria pauses, trying to find the right word for it.

  
“A watchmaker,” Ella says silently. They all turn to her and she looks up to see all their eyes on her. She can feel the nervous energy emanating from her like heat lines.

  
“A …. a watchmaker makes a watch that can work independently of him. Once he makes it, his job is done,” she says.

  
Ezria nods, “Yes … a watchmaker. He needed them to be able to survive without him; to not need him, but want him.”

  
“He needed them to choose him, “ Lucifer says, thinking back to him and Chloe, how he tried everything to make her choose him but the only thing that actually worked, was giving her space.

  
“So he made them with free will,” Lucifer says, suddenly lost in his own thought. Ezria nods.

  
“He gave them free will, but he quickly found that under his watchful eye, they … they only did as they were told. They couldn’t think for themselves when they had someone to speak for them. He needed them to have true free will.”

“So he asked you to sever the only celestial ties they had left; their connection with him," Amenadiel says.

  
Ezria nods, for a moment there is a tinge of regret in his voice, “I did as I was commanded.”

  
Lucifer turns and walks away from Ezria, his mind reeling. Could this be true? All this time they had painted Ezria as some monster who wanted to do nothing but tempt mortals. He thought he was an uncontrollable entity who wanted nothing but to seed chaos. Could it be he was just doing what Father asked? Could it be he had punished an innocent person, and even more so, he had locked away his brother for an eternity?

  
Lucifer turns to him, the realization still plastered in his eyes. Ezria and Lucifer lock eyes as brothers and for the first time in a full eternity, the string that tied them together, the connection they had been born with, was there again; they both tear up. Lucifer, under the realization he had doled out a long and unbefitting punishment and Ezria because he had finally gotten what he truly wanted all along; a chance to explain.

  
Lucifer shakes his head.

  
“I … I didn’t know,” he says, his words heavy with sorrow.

  
“You never asked,” Ezria responds.

  
Lucifer rushes to embrace Ezria. They share a deep hug and Amenadiel smiles, happy to see his brothers reunited. Maze rolls her eyes and takes another sip of beer; this is not the show she came here for.

  
“I hate to break up the family reunion, but we are working on a time limit. So either get to the soul removal or pack your bags for a new city.” She says.

  
Lucifer and Ezria turn to her. Lucifer nods, “Right,” he says.

  
“You let a demon speak to you in such a manner?” Ezria says. Ella turns to Maze, her eyes still wide with everything she is witnessing. Demon? Maze raises a beer to Ella and drinks.

  
“Just let it all sink in,” Maze says to Ella.

  
“Where is Abel?” Amenadiel says to Ezria.

  
Ezria turns his eyes away; he made a promise that he must keep.

  
“Ezria,” Lucifer says. Ezria turns to Lucifer, “Abel killed a messenger, and we need to find him quickly.”

  
Ezria shakes his head and closes his eyes, “No, killing a messenger is against the decree.”

  
“It is, and he broke that decree. We are mere hours away from Michael destroying the city.”

  
“Sodom?” Ezria says.

  
Lucifer nods.

  
Ezria sighs. He made a promise, but … killing a messenger? He may have been locked up since the dawn of time, but even he knew to kill a messenger was against the order of things.

  
“Okay,” he says reluctantly, “but If I tell you, I must make a request.”

  
Lucifer looks at him wearily, he knows better than to agree up front.

  
“When I go back to hell, don’t send me back to that cage,” Ezria says.

  
Lucifer nods and smiles.

  
“Brother,” he says, placing one hand on his shoulder, “I have much greater plans for you than a cage. You’ve been punished enough.”

  
Ezria nods and smiles in return. He turns his eyes downwards and thinks.

  
“I first saw him in the pit while I was locked in my cage. He had managed to escape his cell somehow and was being hunted by demons. He saw me, said I looked a lot like you and asked why I was there. I told him, said I would do anything to get revenge and…that is the last I saw of him before he was found and returned to his cell. Next thing I know, my cage is being unlocked, and I’m told I’ve been given safe passage to the doorway. It was a demon who unlocked me, told me that Abel had sent for me and…he showed me to the door.”

  
“Who unlocked you?” Maze asks, intrigued by the story.

  
“I don’t know,” Ezria says, “I just know they had the key.”

  
Ezria looks at Lucifer, who motions for him to continue.

  
“When I got to the door, Abel was standing on the other side. He told me that I needed to find a vessel before the hounds caught me and that he knew of an excellent candidate that would get me close to you.”

  
“Chloe,” Lucifer said.

  
“Yes, so…”

  
“You did what you were told, “ Amenadiel says.

  
Ezria cringes, fully aware of where his blind obedience has gotten him so far. He nods reluctantly.

  
“I did,” he says, regretfully.

  
“What did he look like?” Lucifer says.

  
Ezria opens his eyes and looks to Lucifer.

  
“He .. he looked like he always has; young, handsome. He still carries around that stupid staff, “Ezria says chuckling.

  
Maze scoffs, “A staff? In Los Angeles? We have a bunch of weirdos here, but I think we would have noticed that by now.”

  
"The staff is how he commands his flock," Ezria says," much like any celestial artifacts it imbues its owner with a taste of Father's power. His original staff was just wood, but this one ..."

Lucifer turns back to Ezria, “A messenger told us Abel has found his flock in a den of wolves, do you know what that might mean?”

  
Ezria thinks and shakes his head, “No, I’ve spent most of my time trying to get this vessel.”

  
Lucifer sighs, “Okay, “ he says, ending his questions. He thinks for a moment, pacing. The he settles on a solution.

  
“Leave the Detective then I’ll come to hell and unlock you. Maybe you can show me the demon who unlocked you, and I’ll ask him about Abel," Lucifer says.

  
“I wish I could Lucifer, but …it’s not that simple.”

  
“What do you mean?” he asks.

  
Ezria sighs, “The spirit attached to this vessel proved far more difficult to weaken than I thought. Most mortals are easy but … not this one.”

  
Lucifer smiles as almost a point of pride.

  
“She’s a tough one isn’t she?” he says.

  
“Yes, well I may have weakened her spirit too much in my attempt to gain a foothold and…, “Ezria pauses, trying to find a nice way to say it.

  
The pause takes too long.

  
“What are you saying Ezria?”

  
Ezria sighs, “A large piece of her is already in the Silver City, if I willingly leave this body now, there will be nothing here to replace me.”

  
Lucifer still doesn’t understand, but Amenadiel does.

  
“Chloe will die,” Amenadiel says. Lucifer sharply inhales, that is not something he wants to hear. He steps back, his chest suddenly feeling ten pounds heavier.

  
“She will go to the Silver City, and you will never see her again,” Ezria says.

  
Ezria sighs, he speaks to himself, almost realizing his own actions, “This is what he wanted. This is why he chose me.”

  
_How could he have been so naïve?_

  
“I’ve thought about this moment for so long, what I would do when finally faced with you. How I would punish you for what you’ve done to me. But, I see now you, and I aren’t much different. We are both just…,” he pauses trying to find the right word.

Lucifer looks into his eyes and watches him search. He probably hasn't had much time to converse by himself in that cage. He searches too much for words he should already know.

  
“Pawns,” Lucifer says, finishing his sentence. Ezria nods.

  
“Yes, pawns.”

  
Lucifer lets go a large sigh, “So what do we do? What can we do?” Lucifer says.

  
Amenadiel steps in.

  
“We need to perform the exorcism.”

  
Lucifer shakes his head no, “No, if we do that Chloe will die.”

  
“Not quite,” Maze says, “the whole point of an exorcism is to weaken the soul. If we weaken Ezria, it will give Chloe’s a chance to get stronger.”

  
“And once she’s strong enough, he can leave without harming her,” Amenadiel says.

  
Maze nods.

  
“It will be painful for them both, but if all goes according to plan, we can save her. It just can’t be one of us, we’re too strong; we would kill her,” Maze says.

  
Lucifer turns to Ezria. Is this true? He asks with his eyes. Ezria nods.

  
“I will do as you wish,” Ezria says.

  
Lucifer nods and turns to Ella. She looks on, still very confused about what she is seeing and hearing. He walks over to her and places his hands on Ella’s shoulders. Her eyes cautiously move to his. When he was farther away, when she wasn’t the center of attention, it was easier to digest; it was like watching a movie. But now, him up close and staring at her, she has to face the reality of what is happening. He looks like normal Lucifer, and she can see the softness in his eyes but …all she can think about is that she is looking into the eyes of the devil.

  
“It’s true?” she asks, softly as if whispering a secret to him; her voice pained with realization. Lucifer nods.

  
“I need you Ella,” he says, “Chloe’s life depends on it.”

  
“it’s all true,” she says to herself.

  
“Can you do this?” he asks. Their eyes meet again.

  
“For Chloe, he adds, knowing it might be hard for her to agree to do something for him right now.

  
Reluctantly, she nods. Partly for fear of telling the devil no, and party for fear that he may be right. She might be the only way to save Chloe. Lucifer turns to Amenadiel and nods. Amenadiel turns to Ezria. Ezria nods.

  
“Where do you want me?” he asks.

  
Lucifer sighs, it looks like Chloe is saying those words, but it isn’t. He wants to joke, he wants to be playful but his heart is too heavy. Still, the words pain him.

  
“In the bedroom,” he says.

  
Ezria nods and steps up past the threshold of the bedroom.  
Lucifer looks back to Ella.

  
“Just do what Amenadiel tells you, okay?”

  
Ella nods, then frowns.

  
“I thought you were going to help me?” she asks.

  
Lucifer turns his head away, fearful he would start tearing up again.

  
“I can’t,” he says, ready to explain. He is at a loss of words, so he just says, “I can’t” again.

  
Ella nods and turns to the bedroom. Amenadiel stands there watching her as Ezria lays down on the bed behind him. She slowly approaches the steps. Amenadiel reaches out his hand to her, and she cautiously steps forward to grab it. He leads her up the stairs and into the bedroom.

  
“Just repeat after me,” he says, “Ezria won’t put up a fight.” She nods.

  
Is she really about to perform an exorcism? _Oh God_ , she thinks, _why did I bring wine?_

 


	12. Deep In the Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe awakens in the Silver City and has a conversation with God. Amenadiel and Ella perform an exorcism and Lucifer struggles with his own inner thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you for your feedback on my last chapter. This is my first fan fiction, so I did not know that Alternate Universes were a thing and that people liked it when fanfictions diverged. That being said, I will still tie up my current story line because I messed up quite a few details. But I will continue the overall plan in another story line that will pickup where this one ends off. Thanks again for your feedback. I really appreciate it!

 

Inside what appears to be a modern condominium, Chloe lays on a comfortable large bed and beneath pure white linen. The room is quiet, clean and has no entry or exit doors. The soft sound of birds chirping is followed by a cool breeze that shifts the delicate strands of hair that falls across Chloe’s face. Chloe moves in her sleep, and her eyes open slowly. She is greeted with a bright light that could not possibly be the sun.

She squints and sits up, her eyes trying to adjust. Once she can see clearly, she notices that the wall to the right of her bed – where all the light is coming from - is one large clear glass window.

  
She blinks, trying to make sure she is sure of what she sees. She tosses the covers off of her cautiously and approaches the window. On the other side of the window is a city expanse that mimics only those found in sci-fi movies; tall, beautiful buildings with silver and gold adornments. The closer she gets to the window, the more she realizes there is no actual window, but an opening. A clean, fresh breeze moves past her, blowing the loose white dress she wears.

  
She has seen this city before, she thinks, but maybe only in dreams. Despite being unaware of where she is, she feels like she’s been here once before. She looks below, careful not to fall, to see she is several stories off the ground. Below her is a park; she can barely make out the forms of people walking and children playing. It is peaceful, past any peace she has ever felt.

  
_What is this place?_

  
She turns to take in her surroundings. There is the bed she just came out of, and a small bathroom with just a tub. There is a place where a door should be, but no door. She scrunches up her face and turns back to the window.

  
_Where am I?_

  
Behind her, a figure begins to materialize. She doesn’t notice, as she stares out into the park below. At first, he doesn’t say anything, he just picks up a clipboard out of thin air and reads it.

  
“Okay,” he says suddenly. A startled Chloe turns around and jumps.

She backs up too far and nearly falls out the opening, but something stops her. She turns and turns to see a golden net around the window. It holds her in place, like a hammock made from stardust.

The man behind her either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because he keeps reading from the clipboard, “Chloe Decker, Los Angeles, California, Earth… cause of death …”

  
Chloe pulls herself off the net carefully, then reaches her hand out to touch it. It vibrates with energy.

  
He blinks his eyes like he’s trying to make sure he’s reading this correctly.

  
“Possession?” he says looking up at her, “Ouch. We had an influx of those in the middle ages, not a fun way to go. Learned a good lesson about gatekeepers then.” She shakes her head and turns to face him, realizing what he just said.

  
_Cause of Death._

  
“Wait, am I dead?” she says stepping forward. He finally stops to take notice of her then looks down at his clipboard.

  
“It doesn’t say anything about head trauma here,” he pauses, “I better write it down anyway, you never know. It usually takes you mortals a few days to shed the imperfections of your vessel,” he says clicking his pen and writing on the clipboard.

  
He looks up to see a confused Chloe staring back at him. He sighs.

  
“No you aren’t dead,” he says, eliciting a sigh from Chloe, “Yet” he finishes.

  
“Yet?!” she asks.

  
“Well we’re still waiting on the last bits of your celestial being to pass the threshold, so you’ll be staying here until that happens. You have all the amenities you’ll need should you choose to sleep or bathe. Neither of those are needed of course, but again you mortals tend to have habits the first few days that are pretty difficult to break.”

  
She looks on at him, stunned by all she is hearing.

  
“And I say days, but honestly that’s a mortal measurement. Everyone is a little bit different," he says, staring off into space. His face scrunches up, "I guess that's your appeal, right? ”

  
“What about food or water?” she asks.

  
He squints his eyes and looks at her oddly.

  
“I’m curious, which demon did you say you were possessed by again? I only ask because it isn’t on the chart,” he says, looking back at his clipboard to make sure it isn’t on there; it's not.

  
Chloe thinks for a moment, what name did Lucifer use?

  
“Uhm …. Ezria?” she says.

  
His face drops and his eyes go from annoyed to serious.

  
“Ezria? As in, Samael and Ezria?” he asks.

  
Chloe shrugs, “You mean Lucifer?”

  
He silently makes a note on his clipboard, eyeing Chloe in between her words.

  
“So, I’m in Limbo?” she says.

  
He nods and places the clipboard near the wall, which opens up happily to accept it. He puts it inside then removes his hand, and the wall seals up.

  
“You can’t enter the Silver City until it is confirmed you are … well, no longer tied to the mortal plane. We made that mistake a few times, and it did not end well.”

  
“So, I’m not dead. I’m not alive, and just ... wait here to die?” she says, trying to sum up everything she is being told.

  
He nods, “Or live; you know the jury is still out. There’s still a chance.” He says with hope before his eyes drop low.

  
“But with Ezria powering your vessel…” he says, wanting to tell her the truth but, deciding against it.

  
He looks back up to her, realizing he isn't providing the comfort that she needs. He smiles nervously.

  
“Should you need anything, feel free to ring?” he says looking at a bell on the side table near her bed. She turns to it. _Was it there before?_ By the time she turns back to him, he is gone.

  
She turns back to the window and looks out towards the city.

  
Lucifer wouldn't allow her to die, _would he_?

  
-

  
Lucifer leans over the bar in his penthouse, sipping carefully on a glass of bourbon. His hands shake, and his skin is pale as if he's seen a ghost ; or a few of them. Behind him, in his bedroom, Ella repeats a written prayer given to her by Amenadiel, eliciting a scream from Chloe that is either her voice and Ezria’s. It's hard to tell; they are so intertwined. The scream is blood-curdling, and if it weren’t for the currently busy club scene downstairs drowning out the sound, it could probably be heard across the entire block.  
Maze sits in a chair at the corner of Lucifer's bedroom, patiently waiting for her one role in this whole evening's events.

Back by the bar, Lucifer closes his eyes, trying hard to block the screams out. His hands continue to shake as he takes another sip.   
_I did this_ , he says to himself, _this is all my fault._

“Again,” Amenadiel says to Ella in the bedroom as the prayer comes to an end, "We must keep going until he is weak enough."

Ella starts the prayer over again, clutching the cross around her neck tightly.

“Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum,” she says.

Ella turns her eyes to Amenadiel, unsure of what is happening. He is stoic and calm and seems to understand things are going as they have planned. She turns back to Chloe’s body and the soul that inhabits it. They both writhe in pain on the bed.

  
Suddenly, Chloe sits up and begins to cough. A black tar starts to emit from her lips. It’s almost blood like, but it is too dark to be blood. Ella stops speaking and looks on in horror. Amenadiel turns to her.

“Don’t stop,” he says. Ella turns back to Chloe, who stares at her with blackened eyes. They lock eyes and Ezria nods.

“Keep going,” Ezria says reassuringly. She looks down at the prayer, closes her eyes tightly and grabs her cross necklace. When she reopens her eyes, she continues.

“Fiat voluntas tua in terris sicut est in caelis.”

Chloe’s face turns back to pain, and she collapses back on the bed. She turns over on her stomach, clutching the sheets tightly. A black fog emits from her back. Ella’s prayer slows down as she watches, but she continues to say the words with purpose.

The fog turns into the faint shape of wings. Chloe arches her back as blood begins to poll on her shirt; it mimics the exact location of the scarring on her back.

  
“It’s working,” Amenadiel says.

  
Chloe let’s go a scream. Suddenly the sound of glass breaking interrupts them and Amenadiel, Maze and Ella turn to see Lucifer staring at his bloody hand; glass pieces embedded. He grabs a nearby decanter and sips directly from it; _fuck the glass_. Amenadiel puts a hand on her shoulder, and she turns back to him.

  
“Keep reading,” he says calmly. She nods and grabs her necklace again. Amenadiel looks over her shoulder towards Lucifer, a look of concern in his eyes.

  
\--

  
Chloe stands silently, watching movement in the city below her. She has her arms crossed, gently playing with the skin on her collarbone. She bites her lip nervously. _Lucifer would never let anything bad happen_ , she says to herself. But is she wrong to have faith in the Devil?

  
“The human side of the Silver City is a wonderful place,” a voice says behind her, "You will really enjoy it." She turns to see a man donned in Roman armor. She looks him up and down, then eyes the blade on his waist. She backs up cautiously, unsure of what he wants.

“Don’t worry, the blade is not meant for you,” he says stepping forward slightly. Chloe backs up again.

  
“Who are you?” she asks, “What do you want?”

  
He smiles at her, then his smile fades.

  
“I just wanted to speak with you,” he says, “I wanted to see the mortal that has my brother so enamored.”

  
She looks at him up and down then turns back to the window.

  
“He isn’t enamored,” she says. If he were, she wouldn't be here. If he were enamored, she wouldn't have to question whether or not this was the end of her story.

  
He chuckles, “Even when you lie to yourself you aren’t convincing.”

  
She shakes her head, “Lucifer is ..."

  
She can't finish that sentence. He isn't even human, but he also makes sure to say he isn't an angel. She shakes that thought out of her head.

  
"If he is enamored with me, it is only temporary. As soon as he gets his fill, he’ll move on to some other woman. Women to him are a dime a dozen.”

  
Michael frowns, “but you care for him don’t you.”

  
She is silent, caring for him as gotten her here. What if he can’t save her? What if he _won’t_ save her.

  
Michael approaches the window and stares out of it with her. She eyes him momentarily but says nothing. Together they stand there.

  
“What if he can’t save me?” she says, a sadness in her eyes. She would have left Trixie; she would have given up her life and her family, and for what?

  
"Would it make you feel better to know he's tried?"

  
She turns to him, not sure if it would. Michael reaches his hand out. The gold net over the opening reappears then gives way to his hand. He reaches past it into empty space.

  
“Allow me to show you something,” he says. Suddenly the window is no longer a window. Instead, it is Lucifer’s bar mirror; very similar to a double-sided mirror she would see in the precinct. She peers directly at a disheveled Lucifer, taking large swigs of bourbon from his decanter. His hand bleeds freely onto the counter as the glass shards embedded in his hand still poke from the wounds in his skin.

Maze approaches him from behind and attempts to take his bloody hand. He pulls it away from her. She rolls her eyes at him and grabs his hand forcefully. He doesn't fight her this time. He just stares forward into an unseen darkness, hoping to numb it all; hoping to make this easier. Maze begins to pick the pieces of glass out of his hand. One by one she removes them, but the wounds left in their place don't heal. Instead, they bleed freely.

She approaches the wall and touches it, wanting to caress his face; to let him know she is there. Suddenly a scream from just out of her view.

  
“What is that?!” she asks, jumping back

  
“That is you,” he says, “Ezria is being weakened in your vessel so that your spirit can return. My brother and a believer are working as fast as they can.”

  
She turns back to see the look in Lucifer’s eyes; it is that of pure grief. His eyes water with sadness, but there is more behind it.

  
“What is Lucifer doing?” she asks.

  
“I was hoping you could tell me,” he says, “Angels don’t brood or bleed. Yet, here we are, watching one of God’s finest creations wallowing in self-pity.”

  
She shakes her head, “Lucifer doesn't ... he doesn't,” she begins to say. Not sure what she is trying to get at.

The Lucifer before her isn't the Lucifer she knows. He isn't arrogant, egotistical. He isn't drenched in the narcissistic sexuality she's come to know him for. Here, he is stripped down to his core, and she can see in his eyes everything: all the pain, and self-loathing, the hope, the desperation.  
She shakes her head.

  
"As I said," he says, "he is enamored."

  
She turns to him and looks him in the eyes.

  
“Michael, enough,” a voice says from somewhere beyond the wall. It is both loud and soft and comes from nowhere and everywhere. Chloe turns to see Michael has become silent. She knits her brow.

  
“Michael, as in … the Michael? The Angel who kicked Lucifer out of heaven?”

  
He chuckles, “I’m sure you’ve heard many stories of me from Lucifer,” he says.

  
She shakes her head, “No, Lucifer doesn’t talk about you, “she says, "But you're a key figure in the Bible."

  
Michaels smile fades. Somehow he looks hurt that Lucifer hasn't even mentioned him.

  
Michael nods his head, “Lucifer has a way of putting his own perspective on his stories.”

  
“Are you calling him a liar?” she asks.

  
He smiles and chuckles to himself.

  
“I can see why he likes you,” he says, “ You don't cower away from a fight,” he says, tilting his head like he is intrigued.

  
“You welcome it,” he continues.

  
She rolls her eyes.

  
“I’m not interested in whatever story you are trying to spin,” she says, turning back to the window, to view the look in Lucifer's eyes; to see the real him again. “Lucifer would never lie to me.”

  
Michael nods, “Lucifer is not a liar. He is many things, but a liar is not one of them. What I meant was that every story has two sides,” he says.

  
“Michael.”

  
Chloe and Michael turn to see a figure behind them. She turns to Michael, a look suggesting he introduce her to whoever this is.  
Michael looks at her as though she should know him. He nods at her, bidding her goodbye, then walks directly into the wall, disappearing into it.

She turns back to the figure as light returns to the room. In the place where Lucifer’s image was, there is the city again. A cool breeze blows behind her. The figure in front of her is tall and lean. Across him is draped an old white robe tied with a belt that shimmers like it were real gold.

  
His skin is olive, but when he moves, she can see it shimmer with gold and silver. His eyes are deep, so deep she risks falling in. She can’t tell what color they are because they shift ever so slightly like there is a galaxy behind his eyes.

  
“Who… who are you?” she asks timidly, already knowing the answer to that question but needing him to confirm that she isn’t crazy.

  
He smiles at her.

  
“You already know that Chloe,” he says, "Is this how you want to spend our time together? Asking the known instead of seeking the unknown?"

  
“You know my name?” she asks.

  
He smiles at her, “I know everything. I know how your story began, how it will end. I know it all because I’ve planned it all.”

  
She looks at him, then around the room.

  
“This is part of your plan?” she asks.

  
He smiles and nods.

  
“It is only temporary; a means to an end.”

  
"What end?" she asks.

  
"I think you already know that answer, Chloe," he says.

  
She thinks for a moment.

  
"Lucifer? is this about Lucifer?" she asks.

  
He smiles and nods.

  
“Samael is on his own path. He is stubborn and molding him is not easy. I require a catalyst.”

  
Chloe looks at him and squints.

  
"Am I that catalyst?"

  
She does not answer her; he just smiles. She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

  
“So what’s your message? That you can take me anytime, you wish? That he deserves to be tormented?” she says turning back to the window to find Lucifer's image is gone.

 

God shakes his head.

  
“So you've seen him? The real him, and you still believe that I would harm him out of boredom? I’ve watched my son stew in his own self-hatred since he was thrown from this very balcony,” he says.

  
When Chloe turns back around to face him, she is shocked to find she is in a new room. Michael stands at the doorway to this room, guarding it. It looks like an observatory and has an open balcony that extends into nothingness. Behind it are the stars, clearer than she’s ever seen them. She walks closer, crossing over onto the balcony and stares out at the sky; it is beautiful.

"And contrary to his belief, it is hard to watch something you love so dearly, suffer. But as I said, I have a plan," he says.

She turns to him and squints her eyes.

  
“So you planned to have one of your sons possess me, bring me to the brink of death, all so that you can tell me you have a plan?” She shakes her head.  
“I have a daughter and friends! I have a life! What if your plan doesn’t work? What if I die?” she asks.

He nods his head and doesn’t respond.

She chuckles to herself and brings her hand to her forehead like she can’t believe what she is hearing. No wonder Lucifer is always going on like a madman about his Father. She’s starting to understand his daddy issues. He turns to the balcony and looks out at the stars.

“Every life has a story,” he says, “just like every new star.”

He points towards a star in the sky and says,” Like that one.”

Chloe looks out into the sky to see the star he is pointing at. It is small and burns brightly. Amongst the other stars and gaseous clouds in the sky, it is insignificant and blends in with ease. Suddenly, its light gets brighter and brighter.

“What starts as something small and inconsequential can turn into something grand in the blink of an eye.”

The star collapses on itself and goes dark. Then, all of the stars surrounding it begin a vortex inward, with that dark spot as its center. It swallows stars whole and spits out gasses and light and color that explode from either end of the dark center until finally, it stops. The stars continue to spin around a center point, but now it is steady and stars no longer disappear.

  
“And in its place, there is hope for new life and new beginnings.”

  
Chloe blinks her eyes, did she just witness a new galaxy being created?

  
She shakes her head, “so you’re trying to create something new, and you want to sacrifice me?” she asks, “I don’t think I can get behind that.”

He chuckles. Mortals were never good with the bigger picture.

“I don’t want to sacrifice you, Chloe, you are very important to me; to the plan. Do you know how many mortal women I’ve tossed in front of Samael hoping they could reach past that shell of his?”

“He _has_ had a lot of women,” she says, thinking about the parade of women they brought into the station.

“That’s just what you’ve seen. He’s been around since the dawn of creation.”

Chloe shakes her head; she hadn't even thought about that.

“If you’re trying to convince me I should date your son, you’re doing a bad job," she says.

He laughs a hearty and genuine laugh. He smiles sincerely, almost as if he hasn't laughed that hard in a while. It forces Chloe to smile.  
He looks at her; a love within his eyes that she can't even process.

"This is why you are perfect for him," he says.

He turns back to the galaxy and sighs. Her smile fades, and she turns back to the night sky as well; it's so beautiful.

“From the stars perspective,” he says, turning back to a still spinning galaxy of starts, “I am a destroyer. I willingly sacrificed it for the benefit of others. But in the larger picture, that star did exactly what I intended it to do and in its place lays a multitude of possibilities for life, and love. For children and friends.”

She shakes her head. This is too much; she needs to sit down. She looks around for a chair only to find one materialize beside her. She turns to him; it’s almost as if he read her mind.

She sits as her mind reels and tries to grasp it all. He smiles to himself at her inner thoughts.

She finally turns to him, her eyes wide as if she were trying to figure out what to do to avoid waking the lion.

“I find it hard to believe you brought me here to show me the stars," she says, "What did you really want to tell me?” she asks.

He nods and smiles.

“I needed you to understand that you are a part of the plan; a very big part of the plan. Much like that star.”

  
“Okay,” she says wearily.

  
“There will come a time when Samael-,” he pauses, remembering she refers to him by a different name.

  
“There will come a time when Lucifer will ask you to make him a promise, and you will make that promise willingly.”

  
“Okay?” she says, hesitation in her voice.

  
“Then there will come a time when you will break that promise to him.”

  
She shakes her head, “I could never,” she says.

  
“Lucifer and I-,” she begins to say. What about her and Lucifer? She pauses to clarify her thoughts.

  
“I would never hurt him.”

  
He nods, “I know, which is why I am telling you that you must.”

  
She squints her eyes and shakes her head while standing up.

  
“No, no I won’t. I could never hurt him. He can be difficult, but I would never.”

  
He nods and smiles, “Chloe,” he says, “It is a part of the plan. I am telling you not because I want you to make that choice, but because it has already been written.”

  
“What about free will? Don't I have free will?” she asks.

  
“You have the choice,” God says, nodding, ” but in every possibility ... you always choose to break this promise.”

  
She shakes her head, “No.”

  
“This is who you are,” he says, “this is how you were created. It is written.”

  
She shakes her head, “Then I will unwrite it,” she says.

  
He sits there, a smile across his face. She _is_ perfect.

“Chloe, I do not expect you to understand. But of all my sons, Samael is the most unique and I must make sure he is ready for his final task.”

  
"He's already completed his task Father," Michael says, looking out towards the stars.

  
God turns to him and smiles, "No, he hasn't." Michael looks at him oddly. What else is there left to do? The world has been created and filled with humans and animals. The skies have been peppered with stars and life and Hell has been filled with those who failed their test. What else could there be?

Chloe notices and her eyebrows raise. _Do any of the angels know his plan? What if there is no plan? What if this whole plan doesn't even exist?_

  
“You keep mentioning a plan,” she says, “what is this great plan.”

  
“If I told you that,” he says, “Then I would have to destroy you.”

  
There is a seriousness in his voice, and Chloe thinks he is somehow much taller than he was a moment ago. She has a feeling his form knows no bounds and his human form is a façade to ease her mind.

  
“You are correct,” he says, reading her mind.

  
Suddenly the fear she had been lacking all along was there. It had taken its own form. He is silent for a moment, watching her as if peering into her very being. For a second she thinks she sees a curious look over his face as if he were intrigued by what he sees.

“It’s very interesting, really,” he says, “You could have asked me anything your heart desired, and yet you chose to defend Samael.  
What does that say about what your heart desires I wonder?”

“What happens if I don’t break my promise?” she asks.

He smiles and thinks for a moment, oddly ready to play the Devil's advocate. “Then we will never know who Samael could become,” he says.

  
Suddenly, it feels like Chloe has been punched in the gut. She stumbles backward and doubles over. Her skin begins to heat up, a visible smoke rises from her shoulders.

  
“What… what is happening?” she asks. Her arm begins to tingle as her fingers disappear like grains of sands into the wind.

  
“Your spirit is losing its connection with the celestial,” he says, “and your celestial form is being destroyed.”

  
“What .. what does that mean?” she asks, as her legs begin to disintegrate as well, leaving her floating. She feels like she is standing on solid ground, but her eyes tell her different.

  
God smiles onward.

  
“It means all is going according to plan.”

  
\--

  
Lucifer still stays huddled over the bar; his hair completely disheveled. The bags beneath his eyes are incredibly apparent. It is clear he has been awake all night.  
Behind him, the sun threatens to peak over the horizon; signaling the start of a new day. He turns to the bedroom to see a spent Chloe laying on the bed.   
Amenadiel approaches her and lays a hand on her chest. He closes his eyes and steadies his spirit. There, he stands for a moment. He opens them slowly then turns to Ella. His eyes drift past her to the bar and look at a patient Lucifer. Amenadiel nods. Lucifer downs the last sip of bourbon in his decanter.

  
“It is time,” he says as he turns to Maze, who happily stands from the chair in the corner of lucifer's bedroom. She reaches down into her waistband to pull out a knife. She walks patiently across the bed and flips an unconscious Chloe over onto her back. She takes the blade and cuts the fabric away from her back and slips a knife under the clasp of her bra.

  
“You could have just unclasped it,” Ella says. They both turn to her.

  
She shrugs, “I’m just saying bras are expensive.”

  
Maze looks at Amenadiel, and he shrugs. She reaches down and parts the fabric so that Chloe’s full back is exposed, revealing the large scar that runs from her lower back to her neck. It is scabbed over with a black oozing crust. She takes the knife, running it down the edge of the scar. A dark blood oozes out of it.  
When she has reaches the edge of the scar, a white mist escapes then dissipates.

  
They pause for a moment. The room is still, nothing happens.

  
“Is that it?” Ella asks, disappointed in how anti-climactic it was. Or was she? She had been up all night reading Latin prayers to expel a demon from her friend. Maybe that was enough excitement for one year.

“I’m sorry,” Ezria says.

  
They snap to the edge of the room to see Ezria, in full spirit standing there. Ella looks at him, startled by his sudden presence. He looks almost exactly like Lucifer, except … there is something different about him. His hair is curlier, his eyes are lighter, and his beard is thicker. He doesn’t have the same air about him that Lucifer does. He seems uncertain and timid.

  
“I… I didn’t know what I was doing. I was so full of anger that I just … I let it take over me.”

  
Amenadiel nods.

  
“We all make mistakes Brother,” Amenadiel says. Ezria looks up to him and smiles. Amenadiel was always so kind to him in the Silver City, even as the others shunned him. Suddenly Ezria disappears.

  
“Brother,” he says.

  
They turn to the living room to see him standing next to a completely broken Lucifer.  
Lucifer turns to him. It is the first time he’s laid eyes on his brother since he locked him in that cage.

  
“I will return to hell as I promised,” he said, “ I truly am sorry.”

  
A small smile comes to his face. Lucifer stands up and shakes his head.

  
“It is not your fault brother; it is mine.”

  
Ezria looks at him and knits his brow.

  
“It is not your fault, brother,” he says, “Abel has made a fool of us both. He has turned his vengeance into an abomination of fathers will. You must not let him get away with this.”

  
Lucifer nods, a heat forming just behind his eyes. _He does not intend to_.  
A breeze rolls through and with it, it carries a faint but apparent growling. Lucifer and Ezria turn to it. Lucifer turns back to Ezria.

  
“You must go before the hounds catch you,” Lucifer says.

  
Ezria nods.

  
“Don’t forget about me brother. You made me a promise,” he says, concern in his eyes. Lucifer looks at him and nods.

  
“Never again,” he says. Ezria smiles, then suddenly he is gone.

  
Lucifer turns back to Amenadiel who stares on. Maze has retrieved a washcloth from Lucifer’s bathroom and is wiping down the sweat on a now face-up Chloe. She turns to Lucifer, and she can see it in him, he’s changed. The Lucifer from last night is not the Lucifer that stands before her. This Lucifer is …different. He stands with the authority and attention a being of his power demands, but there is an ever-present softness there she’s only seen in glances. She turns back to Chloe and stares on.

  
_She doesn’t know how special she is_ , she thinks.

  
“With Ezria gone, her spirit will be stronger,” Amenadiel says, “but we must close the doorway to prevent another possession. She is still vulnerable.”

  
Lucifer nods.

  
Maze wipes the blood off her knife with her shirt, then tucks it into her waistband. She then removes the washcloth from Chloe’s head and turns to Lucifer, who watches on like a child watches a mother clean up the pieces of a vase he toppled.

  
“Welp, I guess I have to go take Trixie to school,” she says as she descends the stairway from Lucifer’s bedroom to this Living room.   
She, approaches Lucifer and holds out the washcloth for him to take. He looks down at it weary, unsure whether he should interfere any further; unsure whether he should even be in this city anymore. He's already caused her so much pain and threatened the lives of so many innocents.

  
He shakes his head no. He doesn’t want to take it; he can’t. Maze smiles then rolls her eyes as if she is annoyed. She grabs his hand and forces the washcloth into it.

  
“Take it,” she says. She turns to see Ella standing at the foot of the bed. She is silent, unmoving and there is not a single indicator of a smile; she is clearly in shock.

  
Maze looks at a sleeping Daniel who is still comatose on Lucifer’s couch, “It’s like I’m the only responsible adult around here,” she says.  
She grabs the decanter from the bar and licks the last few drops from it.

  
“Hey Ella,” she says, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

  
Ella turns to her and shakes her head.

  
“It’s …it’s okay. I drove,” she says, her voice hoarse from an evening of speaking.

  
“You really think you’re in the state to drive?” she asks.

Ella thinks about it for a moment. A mind-altering night of demons and angels with little sleep and no food?

  
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says.

  
She descends the steps into the living room and collects her bag off the couch. She walks past Lucifer, who still hangs by the bar – his head low. She pauses and wants to hug him but … he’s the devil. Like, the _actual_ devil. His eyes travel upwards, and he sees her in the reflection of the mirror on his bar. He can see the internal struggle between wanting to hug him, but not sure if she can.

  
“It’s okay Ms. Lopez,” he says, his eyes cast back down, “Go home. You deserve your rest.”

  
She looks at him and reluctantly nods before heading to the elevator. Maze presses the down button, and they wait.

  
“Thank you,” Lucifer says. Ella turns to see him standing and looking at her direction. She can see his face now. His hair disheveled, his eyes baggy, there is an unruly stubble on his face she didn’t know was possible. This is not the Lucifer she remembers; the impeccably dressed womanizer with quips for days. Plus, there was something more right there behind his eyes; an inexplicable sadness. The air was thick with it. He needed a hug.

  
_Fuck it_ , she thinks as she rushes him and wraps her arms around him. He is shocked at first, then softly wraps his arms around her in return.

  
"Thank You," he whispers in her ear. It is soft; secret. They share a brief hug. The elevator dings and the doors open. Ella untangles herself from him, and he looks at her gratefully. They don’t say anything, but there is much between their eyes.

  
“You owe me so many answers,” she says.

  
He nods, “I expect nothing less.”

  
She tosses him a soft smile then runs to the elevator. The doors close behind her.

  
Lucifer turns to Amenadiel and walks slowly towards the stairs. He ascends the stairs and crosses into his bedroom; his eyes never leave Chloe.

  
“We must close the door brother,” Amenadiel says. Lucifer turns to him and nods. It is clear the night has taken something from him. Even without words, Amenadiel can see he is just as vulnerable as Chloe; fragile even. _If Chloe hadn’t made it_ … he tosses that thought out of his mind.

  
“I will draw the water,” Amenadiel says as he turns and enters the bathroom before turning on the tub.

  
Lucifer approaches the bed and sits down on the spot next to Chloe. He looks over her, cautious of touching her. He is afraid one touch might break her, like a Fabergé egg. He presses the washcloth against her face. Even through the cloth, he can feel her skin is warm; she's running a fever.

  
Inside the bathroom, the tub slowly fills with water. Amenadiel watches it, making sure the temperature is right. Lucifer continues to wipe Chloe’s face and neck with the washcloth. She is still and quiet and does not react. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was dead. The thought hits him like a brick truck – he could have lost her. A tightness in his chest forces a whimper out of him as his eyes blur over.

  
“I’m sorry” he manages to get out, his lip quivering as he tries to stifle the feeling crawling up his throat.

  
“It’s all my fault,” he says,” I should have been there. I Should have never let you out of my sight.”

  
The emotion is too much, and he buries his head into the washcloth and cries. It’s not a silent cry or a secret sadness; it’s a loud sob. It’s an eternity worth of tears, of sadness, of guilt all flowing out at once. It feels good, it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, but at the same time the sadness is heavy, and it begins to swallow him whole. He needs to feel something else. Quickly, he lands a punch into the wall by his bed, punching straight through the drywall and halfway through the concrete. It hurts more than it should, but it gives him something else to focus on.

  
“Lucifer,” a voice says nearby.

  
He looks up, barely able to make out the form of Amenadiel standing in the bathroom doorway. He blinks, trying to clear the haze from his eyes.  
When it is finally clear, he sees Amenadiel standing there, glancing back at him with pity…or is that affirmation? He isn’t sure anymore.

  
“It’s ready,” he says. Lucifer wipes the tears from his eyes with a washcloth and nods. He sets the washcloth on a nearby night table and stands. Then he leans down and cradles Chloe’s upper back with his right arm while slipping his left arm beneath her knees. In one fell swoop, he lifts her up off the bed with ease.

  
He walks her over to the bathroom and enters before setting her down gently on a towel laid out on the floor.

  
Amenadiel reaches behind him and plucks a feather from his wings. He leans down and draws a cross above her with the feather before tossing it into the water of the tub. I glows bright and dissolves into the water. He then reaches down to remove the remainder of Chloe’s shirt. Lucifer puts his hand out to stop him.

  
“I’ll do it,” he says.

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “Brother, the water will burn you.”

  
Lucifer turns to him, resolve in his eyes, “I don’t care,” he says. Amenadiel stands up and watches. He is used to that normal bravado of Lucifer, where he tries to impose his will on others. But this isn’t it. He squints his eyes, and for a second, he swears he sees Samael. He sees action fueled not by pride, or rage, or even ego, but … an honest concern to do what is right, regardless of its personal consequences. After a second he nods and steps outside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  
Lucifer’s apartment is still now. The bed is disheveled and blood and glass litter the floor near the bar. He could wake Daniel, and he could clean up the blood or change the sheets. Instead, he stands firm by the door. Not sure if he is waiting or guarding it, but perhaps he does both. But who is he guarding? Lucifer? Or Chloe? _Perhaps_ , he thinks, _both_.

  
\--

  
Inside the bathroom, Lucifer sits on his knees, watching an unconscious Chloe. A strand of hair carelessly covers her eye. He reaches out and brushes it aside, revealing her face. He looks onto her, she looks peaceful, but he knows she’d been through a lot. He closes his eyes, trying hard to block out this sadness. He inhales deeply, then opens his eyes. Silently, he peels the cut shirt and bra from her skin. Next, he unloops the belt around her waist and unzips her pants. He crawls around to her legs, and slips both her pants and underwear from her waist, down her calf’s and off her feet gently. He rests her feet on the ground and sets her clothing aside.

  
This is the first time he’s laid eyes on her naked form, but he doesn’t care. This isn’t Chloe. It’s her shell; it’s the rind of the orange but not the fruit. He stands up and grabs a clean washcloth from a near by linen closet. He sets it on the edge of the tub.

  
He kneels by the tub looks at the water. Holy water only hurts demons, and he’s no demon but … he hasn’t been in the Silver City since he was cast out. He's done so much he isn't proud of. It will hurt, but he doesn't care. He sticks his hand into the check the temperature. It stings him, and he withdraws his hand. He turns back to her. He would do anything for her and if he must burn, then so be it. It will be his punishment for allowing her to be in harm's way.

He moves to the side of her and again hooks one arm beneath her upper back and the other beneath her knees. Slowly he stands up then steps into the tub. His skin sizzles on contact as if he had stepped on hot coals. He scrunches his face at first, then accepts it. _I deserve this._

  
Once he steps in, he slowly lowers her into the tub. As soon as her bottom hits the tub, he climbs behind her and slips in – fully clothed - so that either of his legs are on each side of her. Then he gently lays her back, while supporting her neck, so that she leans against him. He can feel every inch of his skin, from his toes to his upper chest where the water ends, sizzle and crack.

It was as if hot coals had been tossed into cool water. The veins in his forehead tense with pain, but he continues on.  
He grabs the washcloth, wets it with the water, then slowly begins to wipe her face and neck. He dips it back into the tub, and squeezes the water over her hair, making sure every strand was soaked. His skin continues to sizzle and burn.

  
He slowly releases her neck and lets it rest gently on his chest. He takes her arm with one hand and the washcloth with the other and wipes it down, making sure to get between each digit of her fingers. Her skin is soft, and her hands are small and delicate. He marvels at them in comparison to his hands. He sets her arm down and raises the other one. How could anyone want to hurt her? Him, he understands. He has not always paid attention to the consequences of his actions, and he has hurt people unwillingly, but her? His sadness breaks way into rage the more he thinks about it.

Abel used her for his vengeance; an innocent. Abel used her confusion about his confession and her feelings for him as a weak spot. He used his brother’s anger to make him a pawn in his plan.

  
His eyes light aflame, there is a red and hot anger behind them.

  
Abel knew his brother would have done anything to hurt him, but neglected to mention to him his actions could kill her. He had spent so much time blaming Ezria, calling him a monster, but the look in his eyes told him otherwise. He was a lost sheep and Abel was the Shepard. Then there was Andrew. Abel _killed_ Andrew. And it wasn’t just that he was a messenger, he was a mortal used for celestial purposes. He had no choice, no say, no free will. He had a life and it was torn apart for Abel’s own pleasure.

The rage in his eyes burns hotter, so hot the flame behind his eyes burns blue. It is a pure and raw rage.

  
And what about the mortal in this city? He would have thousands of people die for his own gratification? Not just Chloe, but her offspring and everyone else.  
His burn bright with a bright cyan as the flame flickers inside of them; full of untamable rage. It is pure and selfless. The more he thinks, the brighter they get.

_I deserve whatever comes my way,_ he thinks, _but they did not. Chloe did not. Andrew did not. Ezria did not._

  
He was no Angel, he thought, not anymore, but he was the lord of hell, and he _will_ punish the guilty. He would make Abel pay.

His rage overthrows every other emotion trying to make its way to the surface. He could feel them all now, they were unbridled and free, and he used them as fodder. He tossed them onto the pyre of his rage. Everything, the sadness, the guilt, the emptiness he had been running from. Yet, only one emotion mattered; his anger.

  
He would harness that and concentrate that. All this time he had feared they would make him weak, but this feeling inside of him proved otherwise.

  
He looks down at the body resting gently against him. He would to anything to protect her. He _will_ do everything to protect her.His eyes still burn bright blue. He dips the washcloth into the water and drenches it before continuing to bathe Chloe, the raw rage in his eyes coupled with the gentle way he handles Chloe is offputting.

He’s just _so_ angry.

He’s so angry he tears up.

He’s so angry he pulls her closer.

He's so angry he wants to find Abel and spread pieces of his soul across the universe.

He’s so angry … he doesn’t even notice the water doesn't burn anymore.

 


	13. Girl, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer reel from the events of the previous night and seek solace in each other, in a way they hadn’t expected. Chloe finds something odd in the Lieutenant's desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the entire remaining bit of the chapters laid out, then had an epiphany and added some details to this chapter that changed the whole course of the story for the last few chapters. You'll quickly find out what I added. This cut the final two chapters down but will play nicely in the continuance of this storyline in another part. I did promise smut in this part though, so this chapter is not too smutty, its smutty light, but there are some …uh… adult details in here. Read at your own risk.

Inside Lucifer’s bed, Chloe stirs. Her eyes slowly open as sunlight pours into them.

She reaches her arm up and shields the light from her eyes. She looks around briefly and is happy to see it’s a room she recognizes. The bedroom to Lucifer’s penthouse is as she remembers; a bedside table, a chair in the corner and a window that opens up to midday Los Angeles. All normal, all … _real_.

  
Lucifer stirs behind her, and she looks down to see he has one arm wrapped tightly around her body; the other she can feel rests beneath her head. It is then she notices that she is entirely nude beneath the red satin sheets that cacoon her body. She doesn’t know how she should feel about this; there is too much to process.

It still feels like a part of her is somewhere else; maybe in the city she saw in her dreams. She rests her head back down; thoughts racing wildly in her mind.

Lucifer shifts again, adjusting himself to pull her closer. She looks up as he shifts his arm, flexing his hand. She can clearly make out the still open wounds on his hand from the shattered glass; they still haven’t healed. Her eyes widen.

  
_It wasn’t a dream._

  
She reaches up and runs her fingers over the wounds. His hand recoils in pain, waking him.

  
“You’re Awake,” he says, his voice groggy with sleep.

  
“Am I?” she asks, “I still feel like I’m sleeping.”

  
She adjusts the sheets on her body.

  
“We weren’t intimate if you were wondering,” Lucifer says, his breath gentle on the back of her neck.

  
“Yet another night wasted and without the prospect of mixing bodily fluids.” He continues.

  
A smile comes across her face, but she doesn’t turn to him. She’s not yet ready to face him. She can distinctly recall the look in his eyes when Michael showed her the events of last night. She had never seen that side of him before, and she was afraid it was still there. How would she react? How _could_ she react?

  
“I wasn’t wondering,” she says.

She turns to him slightly; just enough that she could see he was fully clothed and laid on top of the sheets. He kept a space between them, so his torso didn’t touch hers, but how tightly he kept his arms around her indicated how close he had actually held her while she slept.

  
She lays her head back down and faces the window. It reminds her of the observatory where she had seen the stars clearer than she ever has and maybe ever will.

Was she _really_ in heaven?

  
“I had the strangest dream,” she said, very well knowing it wasn’t a dream.

How else could she admit to him she was in heaven? How could she admit that to herself? To admit that would mean that she died. Did she? Had she been given a taste of the immortal and everlasting then tossed back into mortality?

“Hm?” he hums, she can tell he is still in the throes of sleep. Maybe she should tell him later? Maybe now was best.

“I was in this room," she says as if retelling some grand story, "with this balcony that opened up to the stars.”

Lucifer’s eyes pop open. He lays motionless, giving no indication to Chloe that he still listens with anything but sleep heavy on his heart.

“It… it was beautiful. It was like staring into all creation.”

She turns her head halfway around again; she can feel him staring at her.

“And I spoke with him,” she says, the weight of her words a shock to even her. She had actually spoken with God.

“Who?” Lucifer replies, an urgency in his voice.

Which one of his brothers had she spoken to? What did they tell her about him? She was the only one who didn’t look at him like a monster, would this be the end of that?

She turns her head back to the window.

“God.”

Lucifer sits up immediately, and she turns her to face him.

“What did he say?” he asks, his eyes wild with fear.

Was this apart of his plan? Abel? And Andrew? Was he taunting him? Was Chloe safe?

“He showed me the stars,” she says, calmly, still remembering their beauty in her mind's eyes.

“I saw the creation of a new galaxy.”

Lucifer relaxes and lays back down. He wraps his arm around Chloe again and pulls her closer. His body barely touches hers.

Chloe turns back to the window.

“I created those stars, you know?” Lucifer says, pride returning to him; if only to impress her.

She nods and hums.

“One of your tasks,” she says, familiar with the story.

Lucifer stares at the back of her head with love. He loves the way the light shines through each strand turning them golden. He loves the color of her bare shoulders as the light hits it. He loves her scent. He doesn’t know what he would have done if she weren’t here. He pulls her closer until their bodies touch. She stares down at his arm wrapped tightly around her.

“He told me you weren’t done,” Chloe says.

“Pardon?” Lucifer says.

Chloe turns her head halfway again, still afraid to look him in the eyes.

“He told me he had another task for you.”

Lucifer chuckles.

“I hope you broke it gently to him that he and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”

Chloe turns back to the window. She can people milling about in their high rises, and birds flying past. This was all temporary; all of it.  
She had seen a new galaxy be created. She had experienced a brief stint in a timeless world and being back here was … uneventful.

Is this how Lucifer experienced things? Is this how she would experience the world from now on? It all felt so … _pointless_.

“Do you ever get bored with us?” she asks.

“Hm?” he says, vibrating the back of her neck with his voice.

“Humans. We just … we are born, we live, we die. But you … the world is endless. It must be, boring.”

He stares at the back of her head. He’s never personally known a mortal to come back from the Silver City. He’s not sure how long this will last; this obsession with the world outside her own.  
  
“Sometimes,” he says honestly, “until it isn’t. Until you find someone that makes you feel like every sunrise is the first.”

She closes her eyes and caresses his hand. At this moment, in his arms, she feels safe. She has to be okay with the temporary, otherwise … how will she move on?  
He pulls her closer, so close that they almost share the same skin. She can feel his face nestled into the nape of her neck, his lips close enough to leave gentle marks.

She can feel his heartbeat, loud and rhythmic against her back. It seeps into her bones and locks her into a comfort she didn’t know she was missing. The world was moving so fast, but his heart set a rhythm for her and slowed the spinning in her head. It broke through her, anchoring every fiber of her being to something; _to him_.

  
Here she could hide inside the present to avoid thinking of the future; when he would run, when she would chase him, when she would have to traverse the world, pretending to care about all the trivial little things that humans do. She had witnessed a galaxy being born. She had spoken to God himself.

_How could she go back to her normal life?_

She adjusts herself in the bed, finally turning around to him completely. She rests her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat in her hands. She closes her eyes, trying her hardest to not let that rhythm go. When she opens them, their eyes meet for the first time.

They stare at one another, both lost and needy. They see past the confusion and sadness; the rage and hurt. There, and only there, they find the comfort and strength they need to make sense of all that has happened. He had come so close to losing her completely, and it had changed him. She could see it in his eyes; the uncertainty of what is to come, of what might happen. He was baring his soul, and he hadn't said a single word. It was scary, but it was beautiful; like watching a galaxy form in the night sky.

  
And he could see the haze over her eyes, she had come back from the silver city, but it hadn’t left her unaffected. She was a mortal, but her soul was heavy with the touch of the eternal. In this moment, they were opposites; each wanting what the other had. She, a mortal struggling with a glimpse of immortality. He an immortal, fighting against his own burgeoning humanity.

Instantly, their mouths meet; hungrily devouring one another. He pulls her closer and their tongues dance to the beat of their own hearts. She grabs the sheets around her body and slides them off of her, leaving her nude body exposed to the sunlight. She grabs one of his hands and moves it from her lower back onto her ass. She presses it there, forcing him to grab hold of her. He grabs it with zero hesitation, and he pulls her closer to him, lifting her leg to wrap around his torso. He kisses down the side of her neck, and she tilts her head back. Her heart beats faster, and she can feel her skin heating up.

  
A hot lust pulls at them both from the inside. It isn’t a cure for what ails them, but it is a welcome distraction. She reaches her hands out and rips his shirt open, popping a few buttons that quickly disappear into the sheets. He doesn’t even pause to make a quip, as he tosses the shirt off of him and climbs his tall, lean body over onto her, pressing her back against the bed.

  
He takes his knee and gently spreads her legs. He doesn’t have to push much, though, as she willingly opens up to him. She reaches up and grabs a handful of his hair. She holds tightly onto it and uses it to keep his mouth on hers. Their kisses slowly become more feverish, and she can’t hold back anymore.

  
She pushes him away by placing a hand on his neck; their eyes glazed with want; both lost in a faraway world where things make sense. She then reaches between them and starts to unbuckle his belt. He licks her neck, his tongue moving from her collarbone all the way to the back of her ear. She rolls her eyes back in pleasure and moans. It is a sweet sound, one that makes the faint glow in his eyes burn brighter and sends a rush of blood below his waist.

She looks down between them as he plants kisses on her neck, and slips her hands beneath his pants and briefs. She feels him first and hums with excitement. She could already tell he wanted her as she starts to rub his rising erection. She looks into his eyes, both still in a needy haze. They don’t speak; their eyes and bodies do all the talking. They kiss again, their lips crashing into each other like waves against a rock. Their breath becomes ragged as their heartbeats speed up. Lucifer leans back, kneeling between her legs. He unzips his pants and lowers the fabric so that his erection stands proud in the midday sun.

  
Lucifer posts himself up with one hand near Chloe’s head. With the other hand, he reaches and positions himself between her legs. She slides herself down closer to him as he leans in and slowly guides himself inside her. She sharply inhales, not fully prepared for him. The more pressure and more persistent his push, the less resistance her body gives. Chloe exhales, her breath carrying a small moan.

  
Slowly, inch by inch, he continues applying pressure with his hips until he is fully inside her. He posts himself up with both hands and Chloe reaches up, setting her hands on either side of his powerful hips. He slowly thrusts into her, her breath hitches in her throat every time he is fully inside of her; his pelvis pressed against her body.

  
She can feel the fabric of his pants rubbing against her, so she sits up slightly, just enough that her arms can reach his pants and pulls it down the best she can, just a few inches past his hips. He pulls out slightly, then thrusts deep into her causing her to moan and collapse back onto the bed.

  
He leans into her, resting his torso fully on her. She could feel his skin on hers. Even more, she can feel his heartbeat, fast and rhythmic. She wraps her arm around his back, keeping him close to her. She wasn’t even aware she had been floating, but his body against hers makes her feel grounded; whole. He reaches under her, getting a grip on her ass that anchors them together. Then, he passionately grinds against her. This turns into short and quick thrusts that wet the sheets beneath them with her arousal. She moans directly into his ear, heating his blood even more.

  
Together, their breathing becomes heavy and loud. The room is still silent; the only sounds that fill their ears are the sounds of their gasps and their skin meeting and separating with every one of his thrusts.

He isn't even thinking about turning this into an all-night affair. He doesn't care about his reputation.

  
He isn't worried about lasting long, and how can he? All he can think about is how she feels better than he imagined.

He had been with many women, but none of them had felt like Chloe. His body was experiencing pleasure, but even more, there was something else there. It was like every single second in his long immortal life led to this moment. He could feel every inch of her body, yet he wanted more. He _needed_ more.

  
She raises her hands to the spots near his wings and drags her fingernails across them. He moans, in pain.

  
Chloe closes her eyes. She can smell his cologne, and it is deep and warm. She wraps her legs around him, wanting to keep him inside her. He posts himself up again with his arms, their torso’s separating. He looks down at her, her breasts bouncing with each new powerful thrust.

  
“Lucifer,” she gasps, already so close to satiation that it takes her breath away. Her voice cuts through an otherwise silent event. It knocks them out of an unknown fog and brings them back to Los Angeles, Earth. It rings and echoes and sends a wave of realization crashing to them both; like a hammer to peanut brittle. It forces them both to pause. The clarity they had both been missing hits their eyes at the same time. They both lay there for a moment, fully aware of how deep he is inside her. They don’t have to speak; their eyes tell enough of a story, and both are overcome with shame.

  
His eyes are wild, he has no idea what to say or do. She places a hand gently on his chest and softly pushes him away. He slowly withdraws from her and moves to the other side of the bed; pulling his pants up around his erection and buttoning them, like that would take it all back.

  
She wraps herself in the silk sheets and faces the window. Her heart still pounding and her breath still ragged. Neither of them speaks. The room is tense and electrified. She turns her head to him, and he’s staring wildly at the wall. He looks afraid to move.

  
A gust of wind hits the living room, and Amenadiel enters the doorway to his bedroom.

  
“Lucifer,” Amenadiel says as if delivering an important message.

  
He steps up on the steps and pauses. He takes a glance at the sight before him. Lucifer sits on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall. Chloe sits on the other side. She covers herself like a marble statue. When he last left them to speak with Michael in the Silver City, they were asleep and intertwined. Now they were awake and there couldn’t be more space between them.  
Lucifer turns to him and stands up quickly like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

  
“Brother,” he says breathlessly grabbing a pillow nearby to place over his crotch.

  
“We have no more time to waste,” Amenadiel says, “I just came back from Michael, he is preparing his army. We need to find Abel before night.”

  
Lucifer nods and walks slowly to the steps. He momentarily pauses and turns to see Chloe staring out the window, her eyes locked on the city before her. He turns back and follows Amenadiel into the living room.

  
_What just happened?_ They both think.

  
“We are mere hours away from destruction, and we still have no clue to where Abel might be.”

  
Lucifer enters the living room and leans over the bar. A piece of glass gets stuck in his elbow, and he picks it out before brushing the remaining bits of glass off the counter.

  
He leans back over the bar and collects a clean, unbroken glass and a bottle of bourbon; no decanter this time as he hadn’t prepared one. He pours a small amount into his glass before setting the bottle on the bar. He turns to the living room to see a still passed out Daniel on his couch. He pauses.

  
“Are you even listening?” Amenadiel says, turning to Lucifer. He looks at Amenadiel then takes a sip and sets the glass down.

“Sorry,” Lucifer replies.

No quip, no explanation. Amenadiel squints his eyes. To his left, there is movement and Chloe walks – covered in silk sheets – into Lucifer’s closet.  
He turns back to Lucifer.

  
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his eyes moving towards the closet to indicate what he means.

  
Lucifer takes a sip then turns back to the bar, facing the mirror.

  
“I had much time to think about how best to punish him,” he says, changing the subject.

"You did?” Amenadiel says, not pushing it, “did you by chance think about how best to find him?”

  
Lucifer nods, “Before we wiped his memory, Daniel told us Abel had found a flock in the den of wolves. I also discovered that Andrew’s files are missing from the station.”

  
“A coverup?” Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer nods, “Abel has already proven to not do his own dirty work. If files on a dead messenger are missing at the station, we just need to find out who took it. Chances are, they are working with Abel.”

“How do we do that? There are hundreds of cops there. Narrowing down one would take too long. Not to mention they tend to be the more loyal of humans, even to the bad ones.”

  
Chloe descends the steps, wearing one of Lucifer’s long button up shirts and the one item of her clothing that was not completely destroyed by Maze; her jeans. Lucifer avoids eye contact with her. Instead, he stares straight into the mirror.

  
“Chloe, how are you feeling?” Amenadiel asks her, as she moves past him to grab her jacket.

  
“Uh,” she says, knocked out of her own thought process and stepping her foot into her shoes, “Fine. Just ... fine.”

  
“Are you sure?” he says, "Possession is not to be taken lightly."

  
She smiles at him,” Honestly,” she says, her eyes turning to a Lucifer who stares out towards the mirror.

  
“I’m fine. I’m just… I’m going to go home and get some rest,” she says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She walks towards the elevator and presses the button. Lucifer watches her in the mirror.

  
“Chloe,” Amenadiel says.

  
She turns to him.

  
“It will take some time, but eventually you will feel like yourself again,” he says, “Mortals don’t just go to the Silver City and return unscathed.”

  
She nods and smiles.

For a second, through the mirror, her eyes meet Lucifer’s eyes. They pause there, much to be said. Chloe turns and enters the elevator. The doors close behind her.

  
Amenadiel turns to Lucifer.

“What did you do?” he asks in an accusatory manner.

  
Lucifer turns to him, a different kind of sadness in his eyes, and sips on his drink. He sighs a heavy sigh.

  
“What I always do, brother,” he says,” I made a mistake.”

  
\--

  
Inside his office, Lieutenant Adams sorts through files on his computer. He scratches his head, unsure at what he is looking at. He sighs and sits back, staring out through the open door of his office and into the bullpen. He looks at his watch; it’s even 1:00 p.m. yet. He seems visibly upset and impatient like something is on his mind.

  
Ella approaches his office door and knocks before entering.

  
“Knock, Knock,” she says happily. He sits up and smiles gently at her. He closes the files on his desk.

  
“What can I do for you Ms. Lopez?” he asks.

  
“I just wanted to know if you wanted to go over the preliminaries on the Rodheim case before I submitted it into evidence?”

  
He looks at her as if she has spoken twenty different languages.

  
“Uh, sure,” he says, “I mean, no that’s fine. I trust your expertise.”

  
She smiles and stands proudly, “Aww, thanks!” she says.

  
Suddenly, the alarm on his watch beeps. He looks at it, presses the button and then reaches into his desk drawer to pull out a ziplock bag full of medicine bottles. He looks up to see she is still there.

  
“Is that all?” he asks, as he unzips the bag and takes out bottle after bottle.

  
“Uh, yeah,” she says, eying the bottles. The Lieutenant sees her eyeing it and smiles.

  
“For my leg,” he suggests.

  
She shakes her head, “Oh no, I wasn’t-“ she begins to defend herself.

  
“I’ve had six surgeries on my leg,” he says, “and neither of them worked. It still hurts like hell to walk.”

  
He takes out a bottle and Ella is able to read the label as “Prozac.”

  
“Prozac isn’t a painkiller,” she says.

  
He looks down at the bottle then at her. He gives a half-hearted smile and sets the bag down, leaning back in his chair.

  
“We’re only human right?” he says.

  
She nods. Most of us. She smiles at her own joke, but it fades when she sees him staring off blankly into the distance.

  
“Lieutenant?” she asks. He doesn’t respond. His eyes begin to water. He’s staring into something, but he doesn’t like what he sees.

  
Ella frowns and sets the files on his desk before walking around to stand next to him. She lays a hand on his shoulder, and he jerks back, looking up at her. She stands back frightened.

  
“Ms. Lopez,” he says shocked, “I’m…I’m sorry,” he says, turning back to his pills and opening them before popping one in his mouth.

He grabs a small water bottle from the top of his desk, cracks the top and takes a huge glug.  
He looks at her embarrassed.

  
“I’ll…I’ll go put these files into evidence,” she says, reaching back to the files she set on his desk.

  
He nods and watches as she walks away. He stares back down at the bottles, his mind thinking of something far away.

  
\--

  
Daniel lays face down on Lucifer’s couch. He drools onto the leather, his leg hanging precariously off of it. Suddenly, he stirs and grunts, realizing how uncomfortable he is. He lifts his head up and is greeted with a large ray of sun from Lucifer’s balcony. He squints his eyes and looks around. He turns his head to the bar to see Lucifer hunched over a glass of bourbon. Next, to him, Amenadiel sits.

  
"Wow," Amenadiel says, shaking his head, "just ... wow, Luci."

  
Lucifer looks at him and takes a sip of his drink. They both stare outward, not able to say anything. Daniel sits up, his back cracking oddly.

  
“Lucifer?” he says curiously. Lucifer turns to him, then turns back to his bourbon.

  
“Ah, I was beginning to wonder if I needed to invest in a shovel and a bag of lime.”

  
“What am I doing here?” he asks as he precariously stands up.

  
Lucifer turns to him and downs the remainder of his bourbon.

  
“Sleeping off the largest hangover in the cosmos,” he says.

  
Daniel reaches up and scratches his head. He doesn’t remember partying. In fact, he doesn’t remember anything.

  
“What time is it?” he asks as he pulls out his phone. His eyes widen as he reads it’s the middle of the day.

  
“I am so going to be fired,” he says as he checks his pockets to make sure he has his keys and heads to the elevator. He presses the button.

  
“Daniel,” Lucifer says.

  
Daniel turns to see Lucifer huddled over his bourbon again.

  
“yea?” he asks.

  
Lucifer pauses, he wants to ask something, but he can’t get the words out.

  
“Nevermind.”

  
Daniel sighs and the elevator dings. He enters and presses the button to close the doors.

  
Lucifer sits there and takes a sip.

  
_What have I done?_

  
"So what's the plan then?" Amenadiel says turning Lucifer.

  
"I don't know," he says, "I doubt she will ever speak with me again."

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, "I mean Abel."

  
"Right," he says, "Right. Well, Abel has an M.O. He likes to go for those he considers weak so he can mold them."

  
Amenadiel nods, "So we just need to find the weakest person in the station, and they will lead us to Abel?"

  
Lucifer nods, "That's the plan."

  
"So who is the weakest?" Amenadiel asks.

  
Lucifer shakes his head, "I haven't been paying attention, Brother, so I don't know. But I know someone who will."

  
\--

  
Ella sits inside her lab, her ears buds in but with no music playing. She sits completely entranced on her screen. To the officers walking past her office, it looks like she is concentrating on a case. She clicks her screen, and an image pops up. It is a scan from a medieval book showing a horned man with a long tongue and a pointy tail. She tilts her head.

This doesn’t _look_ like Lucifer.

 _I get the tongue_ , she thinks, remembering all the women who’ve ended up in his bed, _but where does the tail come from_?

She clicks through to another image. It depicts Samael, moments before being cast down to hell by Michael. He looks young; _too_ young. He looks like a teenager. Ella scrunches up her face.

_How old is Lucifer? Like, clearly very very old, but he looks like… what? Thirty- four?_

She should be taking this much harder. She should be running and screaming but, the forensic scientist inside of her is intrigued. Lucifer had promised he could prove the existence of God, and she was worried about what that would do to her faith.

  
Now, knowing that God _did_ exist, but also knowing the Devil was much more complicated than the books told her, she thinks to herself … what is the truth? She has so many questions, and Lucifer had promised her answers; he owed her that much.

  
There is a gentle knock on her door and Ella looks up just as Chloe enters the lab.

  
“Chloe!” Ella says surprised. She clicks off the screen like a teenager caught viewing porn. Her eyes shift as she realizes what she is seeing.

  
“Chloe?” she says again, the tone changed.

Mere hours ago Ella watched her as she spat up black blood onto Lucifer’s silk sheets. She had grown a pair of misty black wings and spoke in a voice that was not hers. Now she was standing perfectly normal in her office.

  
“H-H- how are you feeling?” she asks.

  
Chloe looks at her oddly, “Fine?” she says, confused as to why Ella was looking at her that way.

  
“How are you?” Chloe asks suspiciously.

  
“Oh, you know. A little bit tired,” Ella says.

Ella slides off her stool and walks around to Chloe. She looks her up and down. Nothing seems off about her. She looks like she’s back to her normal self.

  
“You look… well,” Ella says, almost surprised. Chloe looks at her oddly. Ella is acting strange.

  
“You look …tired,” she says concerned, “are you okay?”

  
Ella smiles, “Yeah well, you try staying up all night performing an exorcism and see how you look in the morning.”

  
It dawns on Chloe. _Ella was there_.

  
“Oh no,” she says cupping her face in her hands.

  
“Oh yea,” Ella says, nodding her head.

  
“Oh no, oh no,” Chloe turns to Ella.

  
Ella smiles and shakes her head, “I know, it’s insane, right? I mean, you would know more than me-.”

  
“What are you even doing here?" Chloe says interrupting her, "You should be getting some rest."

  
Ella brushes it off, “It’s nothing a little five-hour energy can’t fix. I used to pull all-nighters in college. Granted I wasn’t dealing with demons, just Algebra but … actually," she pauses, thinking about it for a moment, "the principle _is_ the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says, “I didn’t mean to get you involved.”

Ella brushes it off again and goes back to her seat.

“It’s actually given me quite a lot to think about. You know, going to church every weekend is one thing but … there’s just so much out there. I mean, God is _real_. I had an inkling, right, faith and all but … to know it’s all real it makes you wonder… what did they get right and what did they get wrong? I mean take Lucifer, he’s not that great of a guy, sure.” She says, pacing back and forth in the lab as Chloe watches her.

“He drinks excessively, he’s spontaneous – and not always in a good way - he is a horndog … I mean, he's slept with _so_ many men and women,” she continues.

“Okay,” Chloe says stopping here there, not trying to think about that particular aspect of him, “Do you have a point to this?” she asks.

“And … _and_ , he threw a guy through a glass window!”

“He did pay for that window," Chloe says defending him.

“He does all those things, but … how much of that is who he actually is and how much of it is what he’s been through? A whole existence of being painted as the bad guy has to fuck you up, right? I saw the look in his eyes last night Chloe. It was not the look of someone whose sole objective is to harm people. Like, he may be the devil, but he sure as shit doesn’t have a tail, right?” she asks.

She looks at Chloe who seems completely taken back at how well Ella is taking all of this.

“Right?” she asks, prodding Chloe for information, “He doesn’t have a tail does he?”

“No,” she says as if it were a silly question, “ I mean. I don’t know. How am I supposed to know?”

Ella looks at her, “Really Chloe?” she says as if to suggest she thought it were obvious.

  
Chloe chuckles, "are you sure you don't need rest?" she asks.

  
Ella waves her off and goes back around to her computer.

  
"I should be asking you that question," she says.

  
Chloe sighs, "I tried to sleep already, but ... I just can't. Too much to think about."

  
Ella nods.

  
"Did Lucifer tell you if you had any like ... possession aftercare instructions? Don't go near any mirrors or anything?" she asks.

  
Chloe laughs, "No, no we didn't really have much time to talk this morning," she says, her eyes straying and thinking about his body on top of hers; his hips thrusting into her and the noises he made. She bites her lip.

  
Ella looks up to see Lucifer descending the steps of the bullpen.

  
“Oh, here he comes, we can ask him now,” she says. Chloe turns around, sees him heading their way. Her heart skips in terror, and she runs to hide behind Ella’s lab table.

  
Ella looks at her oddly,” what are you doing?” she asks.

  
“I’m not here,” Chloe says.

  
“What?”

  
Lucifer enters the lab and pauses.

  
“Ms. Lopez I-” he says as he enters, but then pauses as Ella runs to the front of the table.

  
“Lucifer!” she says, surprised,” I did not expect to see you so soon.”

  
“One could say the same for you, Ms. Lopez. Imagine my surprise when you weren’t at home as I expected you to be. Are you alright to be working today?”

  
She waves him off and says “Pssh. I’m all good dawg. Nothing a little energy drink won’t fix.”

  
He looks at her oddly. She’s acting strange.

  
“Right …” he says.

  
“So what did you need?”

  
“Yes, well, I’m looking for one of your co-workers but the problem is I don’t know who just yet.”

  
“Why don’t you just ask Chloe? She knows more about these guys than I do.”

  
Lucifer pauses, his eyes going downward.

  
“Well, I … unfortunately I don’t think the Detective and I are on speaking terms at the moment,” he says.

  
“What? Why?” she asks.

  
“I … I did something that I…” he trails off.

How can he explain it? How can he vocalize what he did when he doesn’t even understand why he did it. Or why he can't stop thinking about it.

  
She sees him struggling and reaches up to put a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Hey,” she says, “I’m sure whatever it is, you and Chloe will work it out.”

  
He sends a soft smile her way, and she sighs. She didn't know could ever feel sorry for the Devil.

  
“Okay, fine, what do you need to know?”

  
“I just,” he says, “I wanted to know who you thought was the weakest officer at the station. Either mentally or …”

He turns his head to the bullpen, but it freezes midway as his eyes hit the Lieutenant. Lucifer sees him placing a bag full of pills back into his desk.

  
“Physically,” he says, trailing off. Ella follows his line of sight.

  
“The Lieutenant?” she asks, "He's not weak he just has to take a few pills for his leg."

  
He turns to her.

  
“Care to do me another Favor Ms. Lopez?” he asks.

  
“And have the devil owe me _two_ I.O.U’s?” she asks. Is that against her religion? She looks at Lucifer.

  
“Sure,” she says, “but only because you’re my friend.”

  
He smiles.

  
“But like, you do owe me.”

  
“Of course, Ms. Lopez," he says, "A deal is a deal.”

  
\--

  
The Lieutenant is busy staring out the window of his office.

  
“Knock, Knock,” a voice says behind him. He turns his chair to see Ella standing there, a smile on her face.

  
“Oh, Ms. Lopez,” he says, “Did I forget to give you a file?” he asks, sorting through the files on his desk.

  
“No,” she says, stepping closer to his desk, “I was just … I was going to go to Lunch and was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

  
He looks at her oddly.

  
“That’s a kind offer Ms. Lopez, but … I have quite a bit of work to do," he says.

  
“Oh come on! Don’t be so stuffy. Haven’t you heard that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?” she asks.

  
“Plus I know this great food truck by the pier that has the best carne asada.”

  
He shakes his head, “carne asada? What is that? Is that like a …” he trails off, trying to figure out what that is.

  
Her eyes widen.

  
“Carne asada? You’ve never had carne asada before?” she asks.

  
He shakes his head.

  
“Get your coat,” she says forcefully, “we’re going to go eat some street meat.”

  
\--

  
Lucifer watches Ella and the Luitenant leave his office from Ella’s lab. He watches carefully as they ascend the steps and leave the station.

  
“Well done Ms. Lopez,” he says beneath his breath as he straightens his suit and heads for the door.

  
“I’m not hiding from you,” Chloe suddenly says.

Lucifer stops in his tracks and turns the direction where her voice came from. _How long had she been there?_

  
Underneath the desk, Chloe closes her eyes forcefully. _Why did she have to say something?_ She hears his footsteps slowly walking to her.

  
_Shit. Shit. Shit._

  
He slowly walks around the table and stands at its side. He pauses then looks down in her direction to find her crouched beneath the desk, her knees to her chest. She looks up at him. He gives her a look, and she sighs.

  
“Okay, I might be hiding a little.”

  
He smiles.

  
“Detective,” he begins to say.

  
“Don’t,” she says, stopping him, “I … I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.”

  
He frowns and nods. He looks back to the bullpen.

  
“We may not be on speaking terms, Detective,” Lucifer says looking back to her, “but, I still need your help.”

  
“Lucifer,” she says softly, shaking her head.

  
She pulls herself from under the table and stands up.

  
“I would never ignore you,” she says, “it’s just …there’s a lot going on and, I just need time to process it all.”

  
He nods.

  
“I promise when I’m ready, I’ll come to you,” she says.

  
“Promise?” he asks.

  
She smiles and nods.

  
He smiles and looks back to the bullpen.

  
“I do really need your assistance, Detective.” He says.

  
She nods and crosses her arms, leaning onto one foot comfortably, “Of course.”

  
“Abel has a tendency to go for people in their weakest state. You with the possession and Ezria with his anger.”

  
“A match made in heaven,” she says, trying to catch up.

  
“But-,” he pauses and looks at her,” I beg your pardon?”

  
“Oh! No, that’s not what I meant,” she says, “I just meant we were both weak and he saw an opportunity.”

  
“Yes,” he says, eying her strangely, “Either way, Andrew’s files are missing which means- “

  
“Someone in the precinct is being used by Abel.”

  
Lucifer nods. He likes that he doesn't have to over explain things to her.

  
Chloe turns to the empty Lutenants office.

  
“And you think it’s the Lieutenant?” she asks.

  
“There’s only one way to find out,” he says.

  
She nods. He begins to leave, and she places a hand on his arm. He looks down at it, imagining that same arm placement from this morning.

  
“He fired you remember?,” she says, “You step one foot in that office, and the whole station will be watching you.”

  
He nods and pauses. He turns back to the bullpen, his mind racing with ideas.

  
\--

  
Lucifer exits Ella’s office and stands on Chloe’s desk.

  
“Excuse me,” he says loudly.

  
He looks at a few officers standing by a desk and eating donuts.

  
“You, yes, with the pastries, can I have your attention?”

  
Chloe sneaks out of Ella’s office, staying against the wall, as the station’s attention is drawn to Lucifer.

  
“Excellent, now as you may have heard, I no longer have the privilege of working alongside of LAPD’s finest,” he says, turning to briefly watch Chloe enter the Lieutenant's office.

  
He turns back to the crowd, “And so before I leave, I wanted to send my thank you’s and regale you with my fondest memories. Particularly the interrogation room which is an excellent location for both work and pleasure.”

  
\--

  
Inside the Lieutenant's office, Chloe quickly approaches his desk and roots through the files on top of it. They are all open cases and nothing interesting. She reaches into the file cabinet behind his desk and roots through the data there as well. All closed cases, nothing unusual there. She sighs and turns back to his desk.

  
_What Is she looking for?_

  
She opens begins opening the drawers in his desk and rooting through files there. More open cases.

  
She opens a drawer on the bottom right side of his desk and is greeted with his bag of pills. She looks at it oddly.

She hadn’t realized the Lieutenant needed so much medication. But she supposed it makes sense. Abel goes after the weak, and if the lieutenant relies on these to make it through the day, it would be easy to gain his favor. She looks underneath the bag and sees more meaningless files and some snacks. She sighs and puts the bag back, then reaches for the last drawer, already knowing she won’t find anything.

  
She pulls at it, but it's locked. Her eyes squint. Why would he need to lock his desk? In a station full of police officers?

She reaches into her pocket and gets out her keys. She knows they won't work, but she has an idea. She finds her desk key and sticks it in the lock. As suspected, it won’t open. She looks up to see Lucifer still has the crowd’s attention.

  
“And bravo to whoever decided to purchase that desk because it is sturdy; Very well made,” he says.

  
She scans the Lieutenants desk and sees a jar of paperclips. She grabs one and straightens it out so that it is one long metal tube. Then, she kneels down in front of the lock and sticks one end of the paperclip between at the top of the key and the lock. She starts to jiggle the key, feeling the lock loosen.

  
“Come on,” she says under her breath. The key jiggles as she turns it, then the desk pops open.

  
“Yes!” she exclaims beneath her breath. She looks up to make sure no one heard her; they didn’t.

  
She pulls the drawer out and her face changes.

There inside the drawer are four files, the very top one reads one name: Lucifer Morningstar

\--

Dan enters the station to see the whole bullpen has their eyes on Lucifer.

"And lastly, I'd like to thank a very special person for removing quite a bit of unsavory footage from the security camera," he says.

Dan approaches him and grabs his arm, pulling him off the table.

"Lucifer what are you doing?"

Lucifer looks at him oddly, "Detective Douche," he says, "Glad to see you're back to your douche ways." Lucifer removes his arm from Dan's grip.

Dan sends a snarky smile his way, "It's because of you and your stupid parties I have to have a sit down with the Lieutenant and tell him why he shouldn't fire me," he says.

He turns to the Lieutenants Office to see Chloe coming out of it, files in her hand. Behind her is an empty desk.

"Where's the Lieutenant anyway? We had a meeting" he asks.

"I believe him and Ms. Lopez went for a bite to eat," Lucifer says. Chloe approaches them now and Dan turns her way, nodding. He sighs, "Well I guess I'll just have to wait," he says.

He looks over Chloe, something seems off about her.

"You alright?" he asks. 

She nods, "yeah, why?"

"You just look ... different," he says.

 Chloe turns her eyes to Lucifer, then back to Dan.

She changes the subject, "Are you picking up Trixie tonight?" she asks.

He nods, "Yeah, as soon as I'm done here, which may be late because I have to catch up on some things."

She nods.

"Detective," Lucifer says, indicating they should leave. She nods.

"Later," Dan says as he walks around his desk and plops down. He turns his head to the empty Lieutenants office and sighs. He is in _big_ trouble.


	14. All work and No Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and the Leuitenant get to know each other. Lucifer keeps a close eye on Chloe and Maze...Maze just really wants to use her knives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still doing quite a bit of set up for the next part, so this one is a little slower than the past two. The next one will be a little more explosive, so bare with me.

 

Ella stands in front of a food truck counter waiting patiently. The sound of sizzling meat and chopping puts a smile on her face and a grumble in her stomach.

It smells _so_ good.

A man in a chef’s uniform approaches the window and hands her two to-go containers and a drink carrier filled with two cans of soda.

“Thanks, Reggie, will I see you this weekend?”

“You _always_ take my money Ell,” he says, shaking his head, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Stop telegraphing you cards then!”

He waves her off laughing. She smiles and exits the line, walking towards an open park. She walks for a moment then approaches a bench that the Lieutenant sits on. He stares forward, watching children feed bread to ducks on the edge of a nearby pond.

“Here you go,” she says, handing him a container of food. He turns to her, knocked out of his thought process, and accepts it.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. I could have paid,” he says.

“Nonsense,” she says, “I invited you. I paid, that is the rule.”

He smiles reluctantly, “I guess I owe you,” he says.

She sits down on the bench next to him, placing the drink tray between them. Then she cracks open her food container. The steam from the food wafts into her face, and she smiles.

He looks at her food then opens his. He is greeted with fresh grilled tomatoes, slices of avocados, and perfectly grilled steak.

“This is carne asada?” he asks.

She nods, spraying a squirt of lime on her meat.

“This just looks like regular meat? What makes it special?” he asks.

She bites into her food and turns to him, covering her mouth.

“It’s the way it is prepared,” she says, chewing, “try it! You’ll see.”

He opens the utensil packet and sticks his fork into the meat.  
  
“No, you have to try it with the lime,” she says.

She reaches over with her lime and squirts a little of its juice on his meat. He looks down at it oddly.

“Now try,” she says, going back to her food.

He reaches his fork up and plops the food into his mouth. He begins to chew, then looks at her; his eye lit up with joy.

“Yeah?” she says.

“Oh, that’s _good_ ,” he says, a huskiness to his voice that makes Ella pause momentarily and blush.

“I told you, man! The best food in the city is on wheels,” she says, turning back to her food.

They eat happily and quietly for a moment.

He turns his head to her and watches her eat a forkful of food. Then he turns his gaze back to his plate and spears a tomato with his fork.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he says, “I don’t get out much.”

He places the tomato into his mouth. Ella smiles, wipes her mouth with a napkin and sets the napkin between her legs.

“Yeah? How long have you been in Los Angeles,” she says.

“You know I transferred here when I got the call?” he says, rhetorically, “About as long as I’ve had this position, I’ve been in L.A.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“So you’re a newbie!” she says.

He smiles and nods.

“I guess so.”

“You know,” she says,” part of the fun of living in L.A. is actually living, you know? Going out, meeting people, exploring the world around you.”

He looks at her, watching how enthusiastic she is about life. He smiles then turns back to his food.

“I was never really the … night time kind of guy,” he says before swallowing his mouthful.

“Why not?” she asks, cracking open a soda.

He shrugs and takes another tomato into his mouth.

“I grew up on a farm,” he says, “our days were spent tending to animals and working the crops and our nights we slept to prepare for the day. Not much time for leisure,” he says.

Ella nods and looks out towards the pond.

“Is that why you joined the army?” she asks.

He turns to her just as she turns to him. Their eyes meet. He squints, his mind not sure why she is asking. But, the concern and innocence behind her eyes put him at ease.

He looks down and notices her cross necklace.

“Sorry If I’m prying but … I recognize PTSD when I see it,” she says, a frown on her face, “I had an uncle in the army.”

He looks back to her with his eyebrows raised.

“Oh?”

She nods and takes a sip of her drink.

“Served two tours in Vietnam,” she says, her eyes cast downward as if remembering something far away.

He watches her with intrigue growing just behind his eyes.

“He was never the same after that.”

He nods.

“My reasons for leaving were … complicated. Sometimes I feel like I didn’t really have a choice,” he says, turning back to the pond.

He stares off into the distance, his eyes slowly glazing over. It tosses him back into a headspace he tries hard to forget. She watches him for a second, his eyes drifting off. He has that same look on his face that he had at the office.

“Lieutenant?” she says, resting a hand on his shoulder.

It knocks him out of that thought process, and he turns to her.

“Sorry,” he says, “Sometimes I feel like I’m back there, experiencing it all over again.”

For a moment, the façade drops and she can see the hurt behind his eyes. Like he’s seen things and experienced things he cannot describe. She reaches forward and puts her hand on his leg.

“Well you’re here now,” she says.

He looks down at his leg and eyes her gentle hand placement. She catches herself and removes her hand. He throws her a half-hearted smile then goes back to poking his meat with his fork.

“You know, the physical scars aren’t so bad. Some days it’s like they aren’t even there. But … mentally,” he says.

He turns to her, “the mental scars never go away.”

She nods and reaches for her drink. He watches her take a sip then looks down at the second can of soda in the holder.

“Is that mine?” he asks.

She nods and hums between sips.

He takes it and cracks it open, cautiously taking a sip.

“So, a farm boy huh?” she says with a smile, trying to brighten up the conversation, “would never have pegged you for that, but I guess I can see it.”

“Yeah?” he smiles warmly.

“Yeah, you have this … innocent yet rugged thing going on.”

He laughs loudly, forcing Ella to smile. Somehow it feels like he hasn’t laughed this genuinely in a while. His laughter falls to a gentle giggle, then a bright smile.

“I’m glad we did this,” she says, taking another sip.

He turns to her, his smile partly fading. He nods his head, “Yeah, me too.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to about this stuff,” he says before pausing. His mind is searching for something. He tilts his head, a realization coming over his eyes.

“Actually,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone to talk to about this stuff.”

“Well you can talk to me anytime,” Ella says smiling as she brings up her soda for another sip. It overflows partly onto her lip, and she reaches down to grab the napkin to wipe it away.

He laughs again, this time freely. It’s a different laugh. It’s not surprising, but instead, it’s warm and without restraint.

His eyes turn to her, and she can see the man behind the curtain. All this time the Lieutenant had seemed like this by-the-book worker bee with no interest in people or their emotions. But there, right behind his eyes, there was something else.

There is silence for a moment. Ella turns back to the pond, thinking she should make it her personal mission to get him out of his shell.

She turns back to him.

“So, what do you do for fun in the big city? You know, if you aren’t a night owl?” she asks.

He closes the food container in his lap and sets it on the bench next to him. Then he gets comfortable in his chair.

“Well,” he says, “I enjoy playing chess.”

Ella yawns. He looks at her oddly.

“Sorry, I’m not yawning at you. Though … chess is _super_   boring.”

He laughs.

“It is not! It’s all about outsmarting your opponent,” he says, “thinking one – sometimes two, three, four - steps ahead.”

She can see the excitement in his eyes. She thinks it’s the first she’s seen him show interest in anything besides cases.

“Okay, so Chess,” Ella says, “I didn’t peg you for a chess guy.”

He smiles.

“Yeah? What did you think then?”

“I don’t know,” she says shrugging, “maybe Scrabble?”

He chuckles to himself, “What is Scrabble?” he asks.

She looks at him oddly.

“Oh buddy, you _gotta_ get out more.”

A thought occurs to her.

“Hey! You know LUX right?”

His facial expression changes and suddenly he’s tense again.

“Lucifer’s club, right?” he asks rhetorically.

Ella nods, “Yeah, you should go tonight. It’s usually pretty bumping on a Friday.”

He shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think I’d be welcome there. I fired him, remember?”

Ella sets her drink between her lap and brings her legs up to sit more comfortably in the chair.

“Oh, come on, he’s not going to kick you out of the club if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He waves his hand to say no.

“No, it’s fine. Really, I appreciate it Ms. Lopez, but I think I’ll just stay in tonight.”

“What? And play chess?”

He smiles and thinks for a moment, “Yeah.”

She takes another sip of her soda again before setting it down.

“So,” she asks the words trailing off like she is about to say something strange.

She pauses and thinks for a moment, her mind jumping to something else.

"What your first name?" she asks, her brows knitted like she hadn't realized that she didn't know his name before.

"Eric," he says, shifting in his seat.

" _So_ , Eric ..." she begins again, her words still trailing off like she is going to ask a personal question.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks, curiously.

He tenses up.

“Ms. Lopez, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.”

She chuckles, “Or boyfriend,” she says, “I didn’t mean to be-“

“I’m interested in women!” he says quickly. So quickly it shocks her.

He sees the looks in her eyes and backtracks.

“I just, I wanted to make it clear,” he says, “not that there is anything wrong with that but, I _am_ interested in women.”

She smiles to herself and takes another sip.

“Okay, Mr. Interested in Women.”

He smiles briefly, then turns back to the pond.

"Can I ask why?" she says.

  
"Why I'm interested in women?" he says confused.

"No!" she laughs, placing a hand on his arm as she laughs, " why you are single?!"

"Oh," he says.

He sees the look of curiosity in her eyes.

He shakes his head, "I just haven't ... ," he begins, struggling to find the words in his head.

Her eyes widen. It all makes sense now.

"Oh! You're a virgin!" she says.

"What?!" he says surprised and also offended, "I most certainly am not," he says getting upset. He catches himself, but it's too late.

"Sorry!," she says, "It's just ..."

He can see the gears turning behind her eyes.

"You have this ... _thing_ about you. I can't quite figure it out."

"Well I do wish you would stop trying," he says, turning back to the pond. A harshness in his words that indicates Ella has crossed a line.

They sit in silence for a moment. Ella sighs.

"Sorry," she says sadly, "I'm a lab nerd. Part of my job is to figure out puzzles. I guess I just ... I just forget to turn it off sometimes."

He turns to her. He was intrigued and comforted by her unending - slightly vexing - positivity and enthusiasm for life. He seemingly - at least temporarily - snuffed that out. He sighs and gives in.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I guess I just haven't really been looking. ”

She turns to him.

"I've been with quite a few women since I came here, but -"

"Really?" she says confused, "quite a few? with that baby face?"

He turns to her with a cheeky smile.

"Do you see this face?" he says, pointing to himself, " _Especially_ with this face."

She laughs, "I don't know ... I feel like that might be a crime."

"I assure you, Ms. Lopez, it is all _very_ legal."

He laughs again, his body relaxing again and the tension causing him to slouch on the bench. His laughter turns into a smile, then it fades.

"They end up leaving, though," he says, "always."

She frowns and adjusts her footing on the bench.

“Well you know what they say,” she says, “when you aren’t looking for love, that’s when it finds you.”

He looks at her, and his eyes squint. He nods.

“Yeah,” he says, turning back to the pond. His mind racing with thoughts she’s too tired to read.

She places her arm across the bench and takes another sip of her soda.

“Do you really think I could … I could find someone?” he asks as if the thought never occurred to him.

She looks at him, seeing the uncertainty behind his eyes. Like it’s never crossed his mind before.

“Everyone deserves love,” she says matter of factly, the meaning behind her words not allowed to become lost in interpretation.

He chuckles to himself, “All work and no play,” he says.

She smiles and rests her head on her hand.

“You’re not as dull as I thought you were,” she says, “I’ll give you credit for that at least.”

He smiles brightly and turns to stare back at the pond. His smile slowly fades.

Maybe she was right. He had kept his focus so solely on one track that he hadn’t even thought of the other stuff. When he was no longer interim Lieutenant. When he had moved on to do something else. Who would be there then? He had a whole life ahead of him. No more fighting, no more running. What good was it all if he had no one to share it with?

He had been with a few women since landing in Los Angeles, and he had much fun with them. How could he not? Sex was great; it was carnal…it was terrific. But then those women disappeared, and he was left without a hand to hold or an ear to listen.

“I suppose I just never stopped to think about that,” he says, his voice suddenly sad and low, “I’ve spent so much time just … worried about the quantity of life, I never stopped to think about quality. When you’re faced with the reality of death every day, it just … you get tunnel vision. You know?”

He stares out into the duck pond, watching a mother hand her child another piece of bread to feed the ducks. Did he want that someday? _Could he have that someday?_

“But you’re right,” he says, “I need to start thinking about the quality of my life. I could die tomorrow, and what would I have to show for –“

He turns to see Ella fast asleep, her head resting on her arm. Her other hand loosely grasps the can of soda between her legs. He watches her for a moment thoroughly intrigued by the sight before him. He smiles and turns back to the pond.

He reaches up and takes a sip of his soda. A comfortable smile plants itself across his face; it is peaceful and content. He sits there, silently staring out into the pond while Ella naps on the bench next to him.

\--

Lucifer and Chloe sit in his parked car in the parking deck of the station. They are both thumbing through the files Chloe pulled from the Lieutenants desk.

“Detective,” he says, closing the file with his name on it, “I despise being the bearer of bad news, but this is all very well-known information.”

She turns to him and shuts the file with her own name on it, “Yeah, mine too. There’s nothing here that isn’t in our personal files.”

Lucifer sighs, hands his file to Chloe and puts his key in the ignition and starts the engine.

“I don’t understand,” Chloe says, her face betraying her confusion, “Why would he have these in a locked drawer if they didn’t lead to anything. If Abel wants to hurt you, why does he need to know any of this information?”

Lucifer begins to back out of his parking spot.

“It’s a mind game to him, detective. Abel is a manipulator while Cain was the brawn. These files could be a cautious Lieutenant or a decoy.”

“How do we know which one?” she asks.

Lucifer’s eyes meet hers; he doesn’t know. He puts the car in drive, and they begin to leave the parking deck.

Lucifer and Chloe drive down the busy streets of Los Angeles in Lucifer’s prized possession. The wind hit’s Chloe’s hair, and she stares off into the distance. There is much to be said, but Lucifer promised he would wait. So instead they drive in silence.

Lucifer looks at her briefly, then turns back to the road. Moments later, he looks at her again. She’s staring hard into the distance, and he can tell her mind is somewhere else.

“Is everything alright, Detective?” he asks.

She turns to him, her eyes glazed over. He recognizes that look. He wonders momentarily if she is forever broken. Mortals just don’t come back from the silver city unchanged. Yet, if anyone could, it would be her.

She nods and smiles at him, then turns back to watch the world spin around her. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind and sun on her face.

“Things will go back to normal eventually,” he says, the uncertainty laced within his voice. She doesn’t respond.

He turns the corner just a few blocks away from LUX. He shifts the car into gear, and it breaks her concentration for a moment. She looks down to the shifter, then her eyes drift casually to his crotch.

A flash of his body against hers hits her mind, and she bites her lip. She doesn’t _have_ to imagine what is behind the fabric of his pants, but she does anyway. A heat wave overwhelms her, and she crosses her arms. She reaches up to scratch the heat rising on her neck, hoping that will make it go away. It doesn’t help.

Lucifer’s eyes turn to her, noticing her scratching her neck. 

“Are you sure, Detective?”

“Huh?” she asks, tuning into what he is saying instead of thinking about what he did.

He turns back to the road, his heart heavy with concern, and they sit in silence.

“Perhaps you and the offspring should take a vacation?,” he finally says, “I have a great condo in Miami that might fit your liking.”

She turns to him and looks at him oddly. Then she realizes he is trying to get her out of the city before tonight.

“Lucifer,” she says, in the voice that tells him he will not get what he wants so easily, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

“Detective, we might not find Abel in time. I can’t risk you being caught in the crossfire again.”

“What about you?” she asks.

He doesn’t say anything. He hadn’t wanted to think about the consequences of not finding Andrew's killer. With no Los Angeles, would he have to go back to Hell? He couldn’t imagine setting up shop anywhere else. Perhaps Vegas? No, _too_ cliché.

“Lucifer?” she asks again, her voice stern.

He glances at her briefly, then turns his eyes back to the road. He can see the sign for LUX in the distance.

“I don’t yet know Detective.” He says.

“Then I am not leaving until you do,” she says in return.

“Must I remind you that you are human, Detective,” he says a matter of factly, “You could … and I can’t…,” he says, trailing off.

The words getting hitched in his throat. When he was alone, in his penthouse it was fine, but not here. Not in the open air of Los Angeles with people roaming around. He had a reputation to uphold.

She smiles softly and reaches out to rest her hand on his leg. He looks down at it, shocked like she had attached a battery to his tongue. She feels it too. Their eyes meet briefly before he turns his eyes back to the road.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lucifer,” she says, a seriousness in her voice. She removes her hand and relaxes into her seat just as he pulls up to his valet.

“So, you’ll need to figure it out,” she continues, a sternness in her voice.

She gets out of the car, and he looks at her shocked. _The tenacity of this one._

“Is that a challenge, Detective?” he asks, surprised.

She tosses a look his way that heats his blood. It is a mix between a devious smile and annoyance. Then she turns and heads to the front door of the club.

“And what do I get if I succeed, I wonder?” he says smoothly, placing his hands into his pockets.

\--

Chloe and Lucifer enter the elevator to his penthouse. He reaches out and presses the up button, then stands back to lean against the wall. He watches her out of the corner of her eye. He has so much he wants to say, but he promised her he would wait for her to be ready. How long would it take for her to be ready? _How long would it take for them to be intimate again?_

He had a small taste of her body beneath him, and it was all he could think about. His eyes drift off to somewhere else; remembering what she felt like. Remembering her hot breath, dripping with arousal, hitting his ear as he tried - and failed - to mount every inch of her body; thrusting himself deeply into her. Remembering the softness of her skin and how he melted into her body like butter onto hot bread.

She felt unlike anything in his long life. He had been with many women, but none of them made his skin tingle, and his heart jump in his chest like Chloe did. None of them made him want to give up every earthly possession for just another second of his skin on theirs. Even being this close to her without wrapping his long limbs around her body was … _hell._

The elevator dings and Chloe enters his penthouse. He follows behind her trying to stay in the backdraft of her scent.

They enter to see Amenadiel sitting in his living room. Amenadiel turns to them. He gives Chloe an odd look.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Amenadiel asks.

Chloe walks past him and collapses on the couch, “What is the point?” she asks.

Amenadiel looks at her oddly then turns back to Lucifer. They exchange knowing looks. Neither of them can say how long this will last.

“Did you find anything on the Lieutenant?” Amenadiel asks approaching the bar.

Lucifer shakes his head, “He’s either the wrong person, or he’s smart. He’s not keeping anything useful in his office.”

Amenadiel sighs, the frustration in his voice growing.

“So, what do we do now? We don’t have a plan. We don’t have a lead, and we don’t have Abel. Luci, we’re running out of time.”

Lucifer nods and leans up against the bar, “Brother, I know.”

Lucifer sighs and stares out towards the balcony. His eyes turn to Amenadiel, who looks worried still. He chuckles to himself. Amenadiel turns to him.

“What’s so funny?” Amenadiel says, not finding the humor in their current situation.

Lucifer smiles and turns to the bar, grabbing a glass.

“Who would have thought that you and I would be working together, yet alone trying to save humans.”

Amenadiel smiles and nods.

“Yes, things have certainly taken an interesting turn.”

Their eyes shift back to Chloe, who stares endlessly into the void; a lost haze over her eyes.

Lucifer sighs and turns back to the bar to pour himself a drink.

“It comes in waves,” he says,” one moment she’s here, then… she’s somewhere else.”

Amenadiel approaches him, lowering his voice.

“It won’t last much longer, Luci. Once her spirit gets back into a mortal rhythm, she will be back to being herself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says taking a sip. Amenadiel’s eyebrows scrunch.

“What if she realizes what we’ve done?” he asks.

“Are you afraid she will hate you?” he asks, a curious tone in his voice. _The devil isn’t afraid of anything, is he?_

Lucifer smiles, gathering the last of his pride, “Nonsense brother. I just don’t want her to feel bad,” he says. He knows it’s the truth, but it’s only the half-truth.

“Uh huh,” Amenadiel says, a grin coming to his face, “We’ll need to speak with the Lieutenant about her absence.”

Lucifer shakes his head, “Leave him to me. I have a way with humans, remember?”

The elevator dings again and they turn to it just as it opens and Maze steps out into the living room and sighs.

“I’m bored. Tell me you have something good for me?” she says as she approaches the bar and grabs herself a drink.

“Bored?” Amenadiel says, “what luxury. We are busy attempting to save the city, and you’re bored.”

“You’re the one that wants to save humans,” she says, raising her glass and taking a sip, “I’m just here to hunt them.”

She walks around the bar and notices the distant look in Chloe’s eyes. She tilts her head and turns to Lucifer.

“What did you do to Decker?”

“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer says, suddenly defensive.

“She’s got that weird look in her eyes,” Maze says.

Lucifer turns to Chloe and sighs, “Oh, yes. Well, side-effects of visiting the Silver City I’m afraid.”

“Oh, so she’s going to the Silver City?” Maze says as she walks to the couch where Chloe sits,” Good for her.”

“As of last night,” Lucifer says, “it seems so.”

Though he’s sure that might not be the case anymore. Knowingly having sex with the devil might be somewhere on the naughty list. He pauses. Did they have sex? Was what they did considered sex? Nobody came but, she _did_ whisper his name. A shiver goes down his spine, and his body hairs stand on end. Oh, how he wanted to hear her whisper his name like that again.

Maze approaches Chloe and sits down next to her.

“Decker?” she asks, placing her arm around her gently. Chloe knocks out of her trance and turns to Maze. Her eyes drift behind her to Amenadiel and Lucifer who look on with the same look of concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, warily.

“Annnd, She’s back,” Maze says, sitting back in her seat.

“Listen, I hate to break up the party here,” Maze says, “but we either get to hunting this newly mortal douchebag or all the fun is going to go to Michael and his feathered family.”

Lucifer nods and sets his drink down, “Maze is right.”

“Yes, I am!,” she says standing up from the couch. _Finally_ , someone is listening to her.

“Now, where are we going? Hmm? Can I use my knives? Is this a dead or alive situation? Alive is more fun for me, but I’m willing to work quickly if need be.”

“No,” Amenadiel says, “Abel would never allow himself to be hunted like a normal mortal. He’s too smart and strong and –“

“Ahem,” Chloe says. They turn to her, and she looks at them as if they are supposed to be ashamed.

“What?” Maze says.

“Uh, Mortal here.”

“Oh, not you Decker. You’re …you’re one of the good ones,” Maze says before turning back to Amenadiel. She pauses for a moment. Did she just call a human good? _Why doesn’t it feel weird?_

Chloe sighs and sits back in her chair.

“We have to do something,” Amenadiel says, “We can’t just sit around waiting here for Abel to come to us.”

Suddenly, a spark inside Lucifer’s eyes lights up. A wicked smile grows onto his face. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? It was so deliciously simple.

“Oh! He’s got an idea,” Maze says, excited, “Please tell me it involves knives.”

“What is it?” Amenadiel asks Lucifer, willing to take anything at this point.

“What if we could just wait for Abel to show up?” Lucifer asks.

The interest in Amenadiel's eyes fades.

“Luci-,” he begins to say, ready to throw this plan into the trash. They don’t have time to wait.

“Hear me out brother,” Lucifer says. Amenadiel crosses his arms and readies himself.

“What does Abel love more than anything?” he asks.

They pause for a moment. No one answers. Maze looks at Amenadiel. They both seem to understand the look of annoyance on their faces. It was so hard to do anything with Lucifer's theatrics getting in the way. Chloe looks up, her ears suddenly back in the conversation.

“Women,” she says, standing up. They turn to her as she approaches the pow wow.

“When he was in Bree’s body all he did was try and hit on us.”

“Excellent Detective, I’ll give you your prize later,” he says, a growl emitting from his throat. They catch eyes again, and suddenly his throat is dry.

Right, he thinks, forgetting for a moment the sexual tension between them is palpable. Forgetting she was Chloe and he was Lucifer. Forgetting things had changed since he was inside her; since she had dug her nails into the skin of his back.

“Yes, well,” he says, clearing his throat and attempting to change the subject.

“Which place in the city has the most beautiful women in one place, at one time?” he asks.

Amenadiel steps forward, finally catching onto Lucifer’s plan, “You’re going to try and trap him by doing what you do every single night?”

“Abel is carnally fascinated with women,” Lucifer says, "I guess I would be too if the only female in existence during my formative years was my mother. I'm sure our good doctor might have some interesting theories on that one."

"Okay," Chloe says, brushing that whole ... story aside, "So you think that Abel might be a regular at LUX?"

“If he is here in Los Angeles,” Lucifer says, "he’s more than likely to have been here before.”

“And what greater way to keep an eye on you?” Maze says, her eyes squinting.

Chloe nods, putting the pieces together in her head.

“Is that why our files were so empty?” she asks, referring to the files she pulled from the Lieutenants office.

Lucifer thinks about it for a moment and nods, “maybe he found out he didn’t need them when he could keep watch himself. He could be using the Lieutenant as a distraction.”

“So, then he’s a decoy,” Chloe says, harking back to their previous conversation, “Great. So we figured that part out.”

“So, you think he’s going to show up tonight?” Amenadiel says.

Lucifer nods, “There’s only one way to find out.”

“That’s a big gamble, Luci,” Amenadiel says, “If he doesn’t show up at all, the city is done.”

They all pause. Lucifer meets Chloe’s eyes. He can see the trust behind it. She is afraid and confused and lost, but she still looks at him like he has the answers. How could he let her down?

“Then how about we sweeten the pot,” he says to Amenadiel, “If it succeeds, we have a great party. If it fails, we go out doing something we love; hopefully each other.”

“So, you’re going to save the city by throwing a party?” Chloe asks, clarifying out loud how strange the plan sounds.

“Bingo Darling,” he says, placing his hands in his pocket, “ _My_ aren’t you on the ball today,” he asks, thinking of other things, he’d like for her to be on.

Amenadiel sighs. He has no other plan, no other suggestion. This is all they have. Reluctantly he nods.

“Okay, so what do you need us to do?” he asks.

Lucifer turns to him, his eyes lit with excitement.

 


	15. A Little Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and the Lieutenant spend more time together while Maze acts strangely. Chloe continues to feel lost and Lucifer and Amenadiel search for Abel inside a big party at LUX.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is twice as long as the others. I had a lot to fit into it, and I didn’t want to cut it off halfway through and make you guys wait another few days for it. We have two more chapters to go in this part, then I will continue the series in another storyline.

 

Ella and the Lieutenant enter the station side by side. He seems relaxed and smiley while she speaks. He leans unevenly on his cane as he slowly descends the stairs into the bullpen.

“So that’s when I thought, if the blood spatter on the wall doesn’t match the size and angle of the weapon,” she says while gesturing wildly, “maybe there was a second person there that was injured but didn’t die on the scene.”

“So, you sampled the blood and ran it through the system,” he asks, meeting her at the next logical point in the story.

“Bingo. Led us straight to the culprit. Was actually a pretty genius thought on my part,” she says.

“You truly are good at what you do,” he says. She turns to him and smiles.

They stop when they reach Chloe’s Desk, ready to go their separate ways.

“Again, I really do appreciate you inviting me to lunch,” he says, “it was a well-welcomed break from work.”

“Anytime,” she says.

He nods.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to LUX tonight?” she asks, “I could be your wing woman!”

He laughs to himself and turns to his desk to see Dan sitting patiently waiting for him. His smile fades.

“No, I have a lot of work to catch up on. I appreciate the invite. Maybe I'll take a rain check?”

She sighs.

“Alright, but if you change your mind … you know where to find me,” she says pointing to her lab. She turns and leaves, and he watches her briefly before sighing and entering his office.

“Mr. Espinoza, to what do I owe the pleasure,” he says, as he enters his office and goes behind his desk. He sits down and sets his cane to angle against the corner of his desk.

“We had a meeting, remember?” he asks, trying not to betray his anger that he had to wait for thirty minutes.

The lieutenant looks at him oddly, then remembers and nods.

“Right, my apologies. Something … came up,” he says, his eyes briefly casting to see Ella dancing in her lab with headphones on. A smile starts to spread across his face, but he catches it and coughs.

“So,” he says, getting comfortable, “What can I do for you?”

Daniel sits up in his chair.

“I wanted to explain my tardiness this morning and assure you it won’t happen again.”

The lieutenant looks at him and nods.

“You were four hours late detective; I certainly hope everything is okay.”

Daniel nods, “I made some … poor decisions last night,” he says,” and they were completely out of character.”

The Lieutenant eyes him. He had heard about Daniel Espinoza. He had read the file which seemed like a mile long.

He sighs, “In the future Detective, I would recommend waiting until the weekend to begin whatever festivities made you absent for our morning meeting.”

Dan nods in agreeance, but then slowly his brows knit. He turns his head to the side thinking about something. The lieutenant notices the look in his eyes.

“Did you want to say something else Detective?” he asks.

Dan looks at him, “Huh? No, I was just … I was just thinking. I just realized I don’t remember drinking.”

The lieutenant sighs and relaxes in his chair, he reaches over and opens a closed file on his desk; ready to get back to work and done with this conversation. He wasn't here to make friends. He pauses and looks up towards Ella, who continues to dance. He shakes that thought out of his head and turns back to Dan.

“That is why it is called blackout drunk,” he says.

Daniel shakes his head and sits back in his chair.

“Yeah,” he says,” but usually you at least remember the first drink. I don’t remember having a single drink,” Dan says, looking off into the distance, searching for whatever he is missing.

“The last thing I remember was driving to LUX and speaking with Lucifer in his penthouse. Next thing I know, I’m waking up on his couch sleeping off a hangover. But, if I were drinking, I would have at least remembered the first drink, right?”

The lieutenant watches him and sets the file down; his interest piqued.

"You were at LUX last night?" he asks.

Dan nods, "Yeah, I was talking to Lucifer about something." He squints his brow. What was he talking to Lucifer about? It feels like it's on the tip of his tongue but ... he can't remember.

Dan looks to the lieutenant, trying to put the pieces together in his mind. He had been so concerned about how it would look professionally, he hadn’t even thought about how it didn’t make any sense.

The lieutenant has the same look in his eyes. He believes Daniel.

“Thank you, Detective Espinoza,” he says. Daniel gets up and heads for the door.

The lieutenant’s gaze falls for a moment as he thinks. He slowly looks back up, his gaze naturally falling back onto Ella. Once he realizes he's looking at her, he glances around momentarily to make sure no one saw him. He reaches to his belt loop and plucks out a key from his keychain. He inserts the key into the top drawer of his desk and pulls it out. Inside, he finds nothing. It is empty. He is shocked for a moment, then confused.

“Detective Espinoza,” he calls out from his office. Moments later, Dan comes running back in.

“Yeah?” he asks.

The lieutenant looks up at him.

“How long were you waiting for me in my office?”

He thinks for a moment and shrugs, “Probably an hour,” he says.

“An hour,” the lieutenant repeats, trying to piece the timeline together.

“You wouldn’t have happened to have run into anyone on your way in?”

Dan leans up against the door and thinks for a moment then shakes his head.

“No, just the usual. People working and Lucifer being a jackass. Pardon my language. I'm glad that guy he gone. He's okay in small doses, you know?”

The lieutenant’s eyebrows raise.

“Mr. Morningstar was here?”

“Yeah,” Daniel shrugs.

The Lieutenant’s eyes move to Chloe’s desk to see it is empty.

“What about Detective Decker?” he asks.

“Yeah, Chloe was here too,” he says, “but … I don’t think she’s feeling well.”

“Oh?” the Lieutenant asks.

“Yeah, she didn’t look like herself. Something about her seemed …off.”

The lieutenant nods.

“Well, hopefully she feels better soon. Thank you, Detective Espinoza,” The lieutenant says.

“No problem,” Dan says, gently slapping the door as he leaves.

The lieutenant’s eyes drop again, this time trouble stewing behind them. He looks up to see Ella dancing in her lab still. He reaches for his cane and stands up.

\--

Ella dances in her lab as she scribbles something onto a clipboard. She turns around, shaking her head, before raising her arms and dancing in a circle. She opens her eyes just as she is facing the door to see Eric standing there, a smile on his face.

She takes her headphone off and pauses embarrassed.

“It helps me concentrate,” she says.

He laughs then shakes his head.

“I said nothing,” he says.

She frowns at him playfully, "I know how to read eyes. Your eyes tell me you are judging me,” she says.

“Quite the opposite Ms. Lopez,” he says,” perhaps it is _you_ who is judgmental.”

She smiles and places her headphones on the table.

“What’s up boss man?” she asks.

His smile fades, and he steps into the lab, bearing his weight on his cane.

“I was thinking about what you said,” he says, stepping forward to her, “and perhaps you are right. I should consider giving LUX a try.”

She smiles widely, suddenly excited.

“This is going to be awesome,” she says, thinking of all the trouble she can get him into.

Eric smiles, “then it’s a date,” he says as he turns and heads back for the door.

“You won’t regret this!” she says, “You picked the perfect night to set loose. Lucifer is throwing a big bash tonight.”

He turns around, his eyebrows raise.

“What??” he asks.

“Yeah, see?”

Ella pulls out her phone and shows him a digital advertisement sent directly from Lucifer.

Eric takes her phone and looks at it.

It reads, “Party like it’s your last night on earth! One night only! Come dressed to the nines! Women drink for free.”

Eric’s brows knit again, the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

“On second thought,” he says, “Maybe I should pick another night.”

“What? No! Women drink for free!” she says, “You know what that means? Lots of ladies waiting to be swept off their feet. I’m not a chess player, but that sounds like a winning move to me!”

He laughs and hands her back the phone.

“Well I am a chess player Ms. Lopez and that sounds like a night filled with poor decisions.”

He turns to leave, and Ella steps forward.

“Oh no,” she says, “No you can’t back out now. You gotta go.”

“Maybe another day, Ms. Lopez,” he says, walking towards the door.

She crosses her arms and tilts her head defiantly.

“You have to go,” she says, “you owe me, remember?”

He stops and turns to her. He watches her for a moment, the resolve in her eyes. She is unapologetic in pulling that card. Then a steep smile comes to his face. The smile is so sincere she can see it behind his eyes.

“Checkmate,” she follows up, a smug and pleased look on her face.

He chuckles softly to himself and shakes his head.

“Checkmate,” he confirms before turning to back to the bullpen.

“I’ll see you tonight then Lieutenant,” she says, turning back to her desk and picking up her clipboard.

“And wear something nice, yeah? You wear your work clothes you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

He shakes his head smiling and turns to leave.

“Oh, wait!” she says. He turns back to her as she rushes up to him. She holds out her phone, and he looks oddly at it.

“Put your number in my phone,” she says, “So I can call you if I need to find you.”

He looks down at her phone then at her. Slowly he takes the phone and goes to add a new contact.

In the name field he starts to type the word “Lieutenant,” then stops. He looks up at Ella, she stares down at the clipboard in her hand. His eyes fall down to her hands, and he squints. He turns back to the phone, the word Lieutenant stares him in the face. He looks back at Ella. She looks up at him, and they meet eyes.

“Something wrong?” she asks.

“No,” he says quickly as he deletes the word “Lieutenant” and instead types in “Eric Adams.”

He types in his number and hits save.

“Here,” he says.

“Awesome!” she says, putting the phone in her back pocket. She looks at him for a moment, then at his clothes.

“You do have a formal suit, right?”

He laughs and smiles, “Of course I do! I’m not a caveman.”

She smiles, “I just have to make sure you get in! It’s ladies night, so the male to female ratio is going to be heavily skewed to one side.”

“More reason for me to wear a suit,” he says.

“There he is!” she says with a smile before turning back to head to her lab table, “we’re going to find you a wife tonight,” she says, casually and placing her earphones back on.

He laughs and turns to head out towards the bullpen. He pauses, remembering what he came into the lab for in the first place.

“Oh, Ms. Lopez,” he says.

She turns to him, her eyebrows raised. She lifts an earpiece off her ear for a moment.

“Before we left for lunch, I noticed Mr. Morningstar came to speak with you. May I ask what it was about?”

She looks at him and pauses. She had completely forgotten about the task Lucifer had given her.

“He uh … wanted advice from me,” she says, “He and Chloe aren’t speaking for some reason.”

Eric thinks for a moment then nods.

“Okay,” he says with a smile before exiting the lab.

Ella slowly puts her headphones back on. Eric seemed like a nice guy. Eric had opened up to her. She had reached him in a way no one else seemingly has. She had taken a peek behind the curtain and found a genuine person there. If he ever found out she only went to lunch with him because Lucifer asked her to ... _would he think their burgeoning friendship was a lie?_ _He might never forgive her_.

\--

In Lucifer’s penthouse, Chloe sits staring out towards L.A. as the sun begins to set. She leans against the balcony, her arms crossed and a fog still over her eyes. She stares out endlessly into a void. Suddenly, a whoosh of air blows the loose strands of her hair into her eye, knocking her out of her trance.

She turns to see Michael standing next to her, in all his roman armored glory. She looks him over. He seemed much shorter in her dream, she thinks.  
Then she catches herself, having to remember it wasn’t a dream, it was all very real. She looks at him momentarily, before turning back to the balcony. Her eyes tired and her mind unable to fit any more life-altering information inside of it.

“Lucifer is downstairs,” she says, a heavy tone in her voice that can be read as both annoyance and sadness.

“I’m not here for Lucifer,” he says.

She turns back to him and looks him in the eye. He stares at her with intent. She frowns in annoyance and turns her head back to the city.

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

“You haven’t yet heard my message,” he says, a look coming across his face as if to suggest she should be _honored_ to be speaking with him.

She turns to him, a look in her eyes saying she is not.

“I don’t care what it is, I have enough to process without you showing up and telling me more about how I’m going to betray Lucifer. Which, by the way, I would _never_ do.”

Michael smiles, “I am not here to tell you about Samael. I’m here to tell you about yourself.”

“Again,” she says forcefully turning to him before heading into the penthouse, “I’m not interested.”

He turns to her as she enters Lucifer’s living room.

“Are you not the slight bit curious as to why you make Samael Bleed?”

She pauses, an interest in her eye betraying her anger towards Michael. He was the one that cast Lucifer out of heaven. He was the one threatening to destroy the city. Why should she listen to him? She turns slowly to him, her eyes betraying her interest.

“What are you talking about? Lucifer has always bled.”

Michael shakes his head, approaching her slowly.

“You know that to not be true,” he says, “It always fascinates me how willing you humans are to lie to yourself.”

She shakes her head. She’s done playing angel mind games.

“You’re wrong,” she says walking towards the penthouse elevator, no longer wanting to be in the same room, “I’ve seen his blood. He bleeds.”

“Yes, but you have to ask yourself why.”

“Because he’s-“ she begins to say, then pauses. What is he?

“Not mortal?” Michael says, “or are there some occasions where he is mortal, say … when he is close to certain ... humans,” he says making sure to make eye contact with her.

She pauses, remembering when she and Lucifer had approached Jimmy in the studio. How Jimmy had shot her, and Lucifer protected her with his body. She had sworn he took several bullets to the back, and even more to the chest as he approached Jimmy. Yet, when she saw him, he seemed fine. He was immortal, he was the devil… that all made sense.

But then there was the night he practically begged her to shoot him, trying to prove once and for all who he was. She remembered the look in his eyes when he saw his own blood. He stared at it as if he hadn’t seen it in a millennium. She had driven herself crazy over having believed him for a split second, but what If he was right to insist he wouldn’t bleed? Why was he so surprised when he did? And why did he bleed?

She turns to him, the truth visible behind her eyes.

“I’m curious,” he asks, in a way that indicates he already knows the answer to whatever he is about to ask, “If the devil can bleed, can the devil die?”

The elevator dings and she turns to leave, no longer wanting to hear what he has to say. She turns and almost runs face first into a smiling Lucifer. Amenadiel stands next to him, already dressed in a well fitted dark gray suit.

“Detective,” he says before his eyes move up and see Michael. His smile fades, and he steps out of the elevator.

He silently pushes Chloe softly so that she stands behind him; his eyes never leaving Michael. Amenadiel stands to his side, Chloe between them both as if they were guarding her.

“Michael,” he says, “I would have assumed it were standard etiquette to not enter one’s home without an invitation. I know how much you Angels are a stickler for the rules.”

“This won’t be your home much longer Samael,” he says turning to the balcony to watch the sun begin to slip beneath the horizon, “The night is almost here. There are only a few more hours left in this day; a few more hours until punishment is handed down.”

“There will be no need for that brother,” Lucifer says, already upset to be called out his name – again – and in front of Chloe no less.

“We are close to apprehending Abel,” Amenadiel says.

Michael turns to Amenadiel and nods, “You know more than I that close is not enough.”

Michael turns back to Lucifer, “You have my warning,” he says.  
  
Suddenly he is gone and what is left behind is a gust of wind. Lucifer sighs and turns behind him to a dazed and confused Chloe.

“Everything alright Detective?” he asks.

She looks at him and nods. He looks at her strange as if he doesn’t believe her. She smiles and rests her hand on his chest.

“I’m fine,” she says, “it’s just a lot to …”

Her voice trails off and her eyes lower as Lucifer’s heartbeat pulsates the end of her fingertips.

“Process,” she says as her eyes glaze over again. She slowly approaches him, resting her head on his chest. She can hear and feel his heart beat faster. She closes her eyes, riding the rhythm of his heart like a buoy; it seems to steady her on treacherous waters.

Amenadiel and Lucifer lock eyes.

“Give it time, Luci,” he says.

“Detective?” he says, but she can’t hear him. She’s lost in the fog, and his heartbeat cuts through it like a lighthouse on the shore.

“Detective, are you sure you are alright? Perhaps you should sit this evening out,” he says pulling himself away from her. She looks up at him, her eyes needy.

“No!,” she says, more to him separating them and not to what he said; she hadn’t technically heard him.

Suddenly her eyes are bright again.

“No,” she says again, softly, “I… I’m okay.”

Their eyes meet again, and she can see the concern behind it; it’s comforting.

“I promise,” she says. He smiles reluctantly and sighs.

“Well, everything is set up downstairs,” he says, heading to his bedroom. He crosses the steps to his bedroom and enters his closet. Amenadiel moves towards the couch and takes a seat, making sure not to wrinkle his suit too much.

Chloe slowly approaches the steps to his bedroom.

“So, what if Abel doesn’t show up tonight?” she asks, shaking her head, trying to shake this feeling off of her.

“What is the backup plan?”

Lucifer steps out of his closet, his old white crinkled shirt no longer on his torso. Her eyes drift slowly down his toned chest and abs.

“Detective,” he says, “this will work. Abel spent his short life without sexual prospects, then a millennium in hell separated from other humans and tortured by demons; and not in a fun way. If he’s had even a day on earth, he will spend every waking moment attempting to pull some poor woman into bed with him.”

“And he’s been here for … well who knows how long. A week?” she says.

“At least,” he says turning back to enter his closet.

“That’s a lot of women in a short period,” she says, "he must look amazing."

Chloe ascends the two stairs into his bedroom and sits at the edge of his bed, in full view of his closet. She watches as he reaches down and unbuckles his pants.

They hit the floor, and he steps out of them, leaving him only in a pair of bright red boxer briefs. They cling to his skin like they were made specifically for him and leave very little to the imagination.

“I do have some sympathy for him in that regard,” he says, tossing his pants into a nearby hamper, “Imagine having desires, but all the women closest to you are either your mother or your sisters. That was the Silver City for me.”

Her eyes stray past his boxers to his toned legs. Her heart beats faster, so fast she can feel it through her chest and ears.

“If we make it impossible for Abel to resist,” he says, pulling a fresh pair of pants off the hangar and slipping his legs into them,” he will show.”

Lucifer turns to see Chloe watching him as she sits on the edge of his bed. He slowly strolls out of the closet, zipping up his pants.

“All we need to do is throw him a little … temptation,” he says as he stops a few feet away from Chloe.

He towers over her as she sits on his bed. Their eyes meet as he gently and slowly buckles his pants, a deviousness behind his eyes that suggests he knows _exactly_ what he is doing to her. He knows that look she is giving him. He’s seen that look in many women.

“Darling,” he says, his hands finally resting beside him,” You look at me like that any longer, and you may end up spending your last night on earth in my bed.”

Amenadiel clears his throat in the living room, and Lucifer turns to Amenadiel and sighs. He completely forgot Amenadiel was there.

“Right,” he says, turning back to enter his closet.

The elevator dings and Maze steps out.

Maze is already dressed for the party and ready to go in a tight black number that makes even Chloe question her sexuality. Amenadiel stands up and looks at her, his eyebrows raised as if he’s never seen her look this good.

Maze pauses and looks at Chloe.

“Please tell me that isn’t what you’re wearing,” she says.

Chloe looks down at her loose sweater and jeans, then back up to Maze.

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” she says in a way that almost asks a question.

“Oh no, you’re not going to make me go solo!” she says.

Lucifer comes out of his closet tossing on a red button-up shirt, “I will have to agree with Maze on this one Detective. We only have a few hours to catch Abel, and he seems to be quite fond of separating you and I. If you aren’t there, he may notice something is wrong.”

She shakes her head, “Well, I don’t have anything to wear,” she says.

Lucifer looks over her momentarily then turns and enters his closet. Chloe turns to Maze who keeps her hands on her side, frustrated.

Chloe notices a clutch in her hands. She doesn’t think she’s ever recalled Maze carrying a clutch. She points at it, a look of confusion in her eyes. Maze looks at the clutch then back at Chloe.

“Oh,” she says, opening up the clutch for Chloe to see. Inside are a few blades, stored haphazardly, “Just in case. Gotta always be prepared.”

Chloe nods, unsurprised. Of course, she has knives in her clutch.

“Right,” she says, her eyes questioning why she even asked.

Lucifer comes out of the closet with a deep emerald dress on a hanger.

“I believe this should fit you, Detective,” he says. Chloe turns around and looks at the dress. Her eyebrows arch.

“Why do you…” she begins to ask before stopping herself, “Is that one of your –“

“An old souvenir from a past sexual partner? Yes. Dry cleaned and starched? Absolutely.”

He holds the hanger out for her. She looks at it, not sure if she wants to be dressed like one of Lucifer’s exes. Would you even call them Exes? Has Lucifer ever had a girlfriend? The thought dawns on her. Has Lucifer ever … _been in love_?

“Go on,” he says, shaking the hangar in her direction, “I promise you it is skin-cell free.”

She grabs it reluctantly.

“Excellent,” Maze says, “now go get dressed. I don’t want to be the only one dressed like this. You have no idea how much effort went into tucking all this together.”

Chloe sighs and enters Lucifer’s bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Maze suddenly turns to Amenadiel annoyed that he has been looking at her this whole time, “What?” she asks harshly.

He smiles and walks in front of her, crossing over to the bar.

“You look good Maze,” he says, “beautiful even.”

She scrunches up her face, “Yeah well you don’t look like an asshole either. So, congratulations.”

Lucifer lets out a guffaw as he buttons up the last button his shirt, “I guess demons do clean up well.”

“Go big or go home,” she says, “or in this case, a literal go big or go home.”

She pauses for a moment. Does this mean she will finally be able to go back to hell? But at what price? Is it really that worth it if it means losing the humans she’s become fond of?

Lucifer turns and goes back into his closet to finish getting ready.

“So, what happens when you finally get Abel? Back to the racks for him?” Maze asks, making sure her knives are entirely in her clutch before closing them back up. Amenadiel still watches her, his head tilted curiously. He nods to himself pleased.

“Oh yes,” Lucifer says from his closet, “I haven’t quite decided the schedule of his punishment. I think the rack might be too easy for him at this point.”

Maze nods and reminisces, “Oh the rack. I had some good times there.”

Lucifer steps out of his closet, fixing black cufflinks to the cuffs on his shirt.

“You know, I might actually have an empty cage with his name on it. Once this is over, I have to pop down to hell and release Ezria. I’m sure he will have much fun with Abel back. One thing he and I have in common is we do not like being manipulated.”

“You’re going back to Hell?” she asks. This is the first she’s heard of this.

“Oh yes,” he says,” but only for a moment. I have to release Ezria, show him the ropes, etcetera.”

He turns back to head into his closet before stopping and turning back to Maze, “Actually, you wouldn’t mind coming with me Maze? I’ll need to look for the demon that let Ezria out of his cage and punish him. You track humans, I’m sure one demon won’t be a difficult task for you.”

Maze drops her clutch, then reaches down to pick it up.

“Yes!” she replies quickly, attempting but failing to hide her excitement, “Absolutely.”

Lucifer smiles. He doesn’t need Maze to come with him but, he would never hear the end of it if he didn’t bring her along. He frowns momentarily, what if she didn’t want to come back. Then he remembers he’s the devil; he doesn't have to ask.

“So shall we go over the plan one more time?” Amenadiel says.

  
Lucifer sighs and heads back into his closet.

“Amenadiel, brother. You absolutely take the fun out of the fight.”

“We don’t have much room for error, I just want to make sure…”

“Abel will show, we catch him before he drags some unsuspecting woman into his lair, Michael comes down, and we save the city,” Lucifer says from his closet.

He steps out from his closet throwing on a black suit jacket, “It’s as simple as that.”

The bathroom door clicks behind him, and he turns to see Chloe step out in the emerald dress he gave her. His eyes slowly descend down her body.

Chloe fits perfectly into the off the shoulder emerald dress, so perfectly that it clings to her body like saran wrap. At the top of the dress is a delicate emerald lace pattern that wraps around her shoulders all the way up to her neck. He can see her skin beneath the lace, making an otherwise salacious dress look formal and conservative.  
  
He watches her, his mind unable to come up with any thought besides how beautiful she is; angelic even. Whoever had worn this dress before her didn’t leave the same impression as she did now. He couldn’t even remember their name and all he could think about right now was Chloe.

He stares at her too long, and she becomes self-conscious.

“Does it not look right?” she asks, “It does feel a little … tight.”

“No,” he says, “It looks … you look..” he says, trying to form his sentences.

“You look Great Decker,” Maze says from the living room, winking her eye. Chloe looks past Lucifer to her and sees her smiling. Chloe nods then looks back to Lucifer.

“Could you?” she asks, turning her back to him to reveal the dress isn’t zipped up all the way. He slowly approaches her, staring at her naked back.

It takes everything in him to not run his hand across it, just to feel how smooth and soft her skin is; to feel the warmth of her body beneath his fingertips. He gently, as if performing a surgery, grips the zipper and slides it all the way up, locking her into the dress.

“What about your shoes?” Maze says from the living room. Chloe turns around then stares at her bare feet. She looks up to Lucifer.

“Uh,” he says as he turns to the closet, thinking he might have something in her size.

He comes back with a pair of black heels. She looks at the momentarily then shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not,” she says.

He looks at her oddly then down at the shoes.

“Lucifer, I have no idea whose feet have been in that,” she says. He scrunches up his face. I guess the thought hadn’t occurred to him that humans are particular about feet.

“Detective, you can’t walk around barefoot down there. I assure you these shoes are much cleaner and safer than the club floor.”

Maze steps in and begins to take off her shoes, “You can wear these, Decker,” she says.

“They are yours anyway.”

Chloe looks down to see the nude shoes that Maze is wearing are in fact hers.

“Wha, What did I tell you about going into my closet?” She asks.

“Only do it when you’re not looking?’ she says cheekily. Maze crosses into Lucifer’s room and hands Chloe the shoes. She then takes the pair from Lucifer’s hands.

“Great,” Lucifer says, going back into his closet for his shoes, “Are we all ready then?’

\--

Ella parks across the street from LUX and steps out of her car. First comes her bright yellow heels before she fully exits the vehicle; her bare skin exposed to the full night air. Her black dress is simple with a tight strapless bodice at the top that flows into loose flowing fabric at the bottom. She reaches back into her car and pulls out a small purse and clipboard before shutting her door and hitting the button on her keychain that locks her car. Her headlights go off once, then fade to black. She smiles, adjusts her hair so that it doesn’t fall across her face and begins to cross the street.

She looks both ways as she walks across the street, trying not to get her heels stuck in the holes of the manhole cover as she crosses. That happened once, she recalls, _it was not fun_.

She hits the sidewalk in front of LUX and can already see a long line that curves around the corner. Men and women who are dressed more casually stand outside waiting to get in.

A woman in the front of the line, frustrated by having to wait, yells at the bouncer.

“I thought women get in free!” she yells. He looks at her, then eyes her up and down before turning back to face the front.

“Not like that you aren’t,” he says.

Inside, the club music is hopping as LUX is in full swing. It’s a bit earlier than usual, but a big party needs more hours. Ella walks directly up to the bouncer, a clipboard in her hand. He sees her and nods before opening the gate for her. She smiles and taps him on his shoulder as she walks past. The crowd groans as she enters. They’ll have to wait longer to get in now.

“Oh, but you let her in?” the lady says angrily. He doesn’t reply, he just stares straight forward.

Once inside, Ella is met with the chest thumping sound of club music as bodies sway and move about the upper walkway. The floor is full of gorgeous women dressed in scantily clad clothing. The few men that were allowed to enter have their hands full as they dance with multiple women at once.

Should she go up to the penthouse? The last thing she wanted to do was walk in on the devil in a … _precarious_ position. She turns her head to the bar and decides to ask one of the bartenders. She heads down the steps and goes directly to the bar. She leans over and catches the bartender’s attention.

“Hey, where’s Lucifer!” she asks.

“What?” he says, leaning closer to her.

“Lucifer, where is he?”

The bartender looks up for a moment then points. Her eyes follow his eyesight and she sees Lucifer, Maze, Chloe and Amenadiel sitting in a private booth; staring out towards the crowd; their eyes scanning every face and body.

“Thanks!” she says as she begins to walk to them. She stops as she sees a familiar face nursing a drink at the end of the bar. It’s Eric.

“You made it!” she says, squeezing in between Eric and a random bar patron.

He turns to her before his eyes light up in recognition. His smile fades as his eyes draw down and see what she is wearing. While her dress leaves much to the imagination; his imagination is running wild. Her scent wafts up to him. He didn’t know one person could smell so good.

“You … you look great,” he says, shocked.

“Don’t look so surprised when you say that,” she says laughing, “You clean up nicely, too,” she says motioning to his navy blue – and well fitted – suit.

He smiles, “What, this old thing?”

She laughs.

“Do you want a drink?” he says, nervously flagging down the bartender and trying not to break eye contact with her.

“No, no. Not now, I have some business to attend to,” she says, resting a hand on his shoulder.

She can see his happiness deflate.

“Besides, shouldn’t you be macking on the ladies?”

He turns to look around the club. There are indeed many women there. Many beautiful women at whom he would regularly jump at the chance to be intimate with in a dark corner of the club, but …somehow he wasn’t interested.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel like I’m looking for something different,” he says.

She frowns, “Oh come on, you have to at least try!”

He smiles and raises his drink, “Maybe after some liquid courage,” he says.

She smiles, “Atta boy! Save me a spot, yeah? I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

He smiles and nods, then raises his drink to her.

“You know where to find me.”

She smiles, places a hand on his back and begins to walk away. Her hand trails across his back, sending a tingle down his spine. He watches her walk away, something behind his eyes says he wishes she wouldn’t. He turns back to the bar and continues to drink his drink.

Ella walks up to the stairs to the second level and approaches the private booth where Lucifer, Amenadiel, Maze, and Chloe sit. Maze is the first to notice her.

“Ella!” she says, making room for her to sit between her and Chloe. She pats the spot next to her. Ella smiles and sits down between them. Chloe briefly looks over at her and smiles, before turning back to the crowd. She can see there is much going on behind her eyes, but there will be plenty of time for questions later.

“Oh,” Maze says in a sultry voice, leaning into Ella, “you smell _good_.”

“Thanks,” Ella says as she pulls the pen out from the clasp of her clipboard. Maze’s eyes trail past Ella’s tight bodice - it makes her breasts look delightful - and fall down to her lap and look strangely at her clipboard. Her expression falls from interest to confusion.

“What’s with the clipboard?” she asks in a flat tone.

“Oh, I compiled a list of questions for Lucifer at work today. I was hoping he could answer a few of them.”

Ella briefly flips through the pages on her clipboard and Maze reaches over and starts flipping through pages and reading questions. She stops on a page and leans closer to read it in the dim light of the club.

“Why do Angels eat?” she says looking up at Ella confused.

“Yeah, I mean if angels are immortal then they don’t need food to sustain themselves. So, why does Amenadiel eat? Or why is Lucifer always drinking for that matter.”

She looks at Ella lovingly – a quizzical look on her face.

“It’s so … _fascinating_ how curious you humans are.”

Ella smiles uncomfortably, not sure if Maze is hitting on her or not. She definitely is.

Maze leans back and looks at Lucifer, who is busy eying the club floor, then looks back at Ella.

“Though, I don’t think you’re going to get much out of him tonight,” she says, reaching forward and grabbing a drink off the table in front of her.

Ella turns to Lucifer. He and Amenadiel seem preoccupied.

“Lucifer?” she asks. He turns to her, his eyes blank with purpose. When he sees her, they light up with recognition.

“Ah! Ms. Lopez,” he says, before he frowns, “How long have you been here?”

“I just sat down,” she said.

“Ah,” he says, “Excellent. I was beginning to think I had forgotten my manners. Drinks are on the house, not that you’d have any problem in that department,” he says with a cheeky smile.

She smiles at him then points down to the clipboard, “I had a few questions,” she says, “and you told me you’d answer them?”

He looks down at the clipboard and nods.

“Yes, I did,” he says, “but I’m afraid now is not the best time Ms. Lopez. Something else requires my undivided attention. Otherwise, we won’t have a city to wake up to in the morning.”

She looks at him oddly. If it were previous to last night, previous to the whole ... demon and angels thing, she would have written it off as one of his strange allegories. But now, she’s not sure.

“Oh,” she says, not sure she wants to know the full story.

She sits back in her chair.

“Told ya,” Maze says to her before taking a sip. She reaches back down the clipboard and flips through the pages again, fascinated by how much time Ella has put into this.

“I don’t know that one,” Maze says, “that’s definitely a Lucifer question.”

“Okay,” Ella says looking back down at her clipboard,” What about this one … Angel puberty. What’s that like?”

Maze laughs and sits back. Humans truly are curious. She looks back at Ella, who is serious about getting answers. Maze chuckles to herself and sits up, getting real close to Ella as to not yell over the music. She’s so close she can smell more of her intoxicating perfume. Maze wraps her arm around Ella and crosses her legs so that they angle in Ella's direction.

“I never went through it, obviously, but from what I heard… it’s not very fun. You see angels are born with their wings, but they don’t _actually_ know how to use them. Angels also age remarkably fast, I’m talking years within a month. So, puberty hits them fast. Like, ridiculously fast. Imagine going through human puberty, but in a week and you are also learning to fly, _and_ you are also learning your role in the universe.”

Ella’s eyes widen in interest, “So like, they are super moody then right? Like emo angels?”

Maze chuckles. This is highly entertaining. Way more fun than – dare she say it – hunting humans. _No, that’s just silly_ , but it’s up there.

“There are some mood changes. I mean, imagine all your growth spurts, hormones, emotions and life crises packed into one week where you also have to learn how to fly, and you’re given a task by God himself that will carry you into eternity. Lucifer’s task, well … we all know what his task was. He was not happy about that.”

“Wait,” Ella says, “Is Lucifer a teenage runaway?”

Maze laughs loudly, so loud it forces Ella to smile. She turns back to Ella and nods, “He was young, sure but …not that young. Lucifer learned pretty early on to fly, he was one of the few who angels who could fly at a very young age. I suppose that’s one reason he was favored.”

Ella relaxes her posture and lets out an, “Awww,” she says, “Lucifer had little baby wings?”

Maze laughs. Humans _are_ strange.

“Anyway, the point is Angel puberty is real, but you wouldn’t get much out of it from Lucifer or Amenadiel. The changes are so drastic they are pretty much put into a coma while their bones break and their bodies elongate. It’s actually _delightfully_ gruesome,” she says, visible flushing around her neck as if the thought alone excited her.

“A coma?” Ella says, “There’s such thing as Angel drugs?”

She quickly gets her pen and starts to write something down, when Maze stops her.

“No, no. Not drugs. It’s called the song of Nurture.”

Lucifer’s ears catch the conversation, and he turns to them.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“I’m telling her about the song of nurture,” she says. Lucifer looks at her oddly as if to say why she would be talking about that. She glances down at the clipboard then back at him, and he nods.

“Ah, curious ones aren’t they?” he says with a smile.

Maze nods and reaches for her drink.

“So you know about this song? Do you remember it?” Ella asks.

“Remember it?” he asks, “Once we’re old enough, we were all taught it. You can imagine how many angels there are in the silver city. One angel knowing the song isn’t enough.”

“Where did it come from?” she asks.

He nods and smiles, “Mum. You see, during our growing times, she would take a few of the fledglings each night and sing them to sleep. Not everyone was lucky enough to hear it from her, but the ones that were…”

He stares off into the distance as if remembering something. Ella watches him, it seems like he is at peace.

He looks at back at her, realizing what he just did and adjusts his jacket, “anyway. It’s a great song. It pierces down to the core in all of us and …”

Lucifer pauses. Something hits his mind.

“ _Hello_ ,” he says to himself before turning to Amenadiel.

Amenadiel looks off into the distance, searching the crowd for a familiar face.

“Brother, do you recall the song of nurture?” he asks.

Amenadiel turns to him. That’s a stupid question.

“Of course, every angel knows that song.”

Lucifer nods, “Yes, and only a few mortals.” Amenadiels look of exasperation fades to a blank stare. He turns his eyesight into the crowd.

“Didn’t Ira teach it to Abel?” he asks.

Lucifer nods, “If our dear Abel is in the audience, he will have a different reaction to it than a normal mortal.”

Amenadiel nods then frowns.

“Luci, playing that song for mortals … it’s-“

“Forbidden?” he says, “I’m quite aware brother. Now ask me if I care.”

“You’re going to put the whole club to sleep with that song.”

“Then I will only play pieces. We just need enough to get it in Abel’s head. Then it will do the rest.”

“Like an earworm,” Amenadiel says to himself. _This just might work_.

Ella stands up, moving away from an oddly affectionate Maze, and straightens her dress.

“Well, I guess I’ll just … chill with Eric until you guys are done,” she says standing up and straightening her dress.

“Eric?” Maze asks, “Oh, Ella … you snagged a man? That’s disappointing.” Maze looks her up and down, making it very obvious she’s checking Ella out.

Ella smiles uncomfortably, “No, it’s not like that. I mean, he’s nice … and interesting but …” her voice trails off. But what? But there is something just behind his eyes that she struggled to put together. She couldn’t deny that it interested her; she liked the challenge.

Her eyes turn to Maze, who is looking at her as if waiting for her to finish the sentence.

“It’s no big deal,” she says, “besides, workplace romances never work out. I mean, look at these two,” she says pointing to Lucifer and Chloe. Maze turns her heads and nods.

“You got a point there,” she says.

“Who knows, maybe when he’s no longer lieutenant it might be different but … for now-“

Suddenly, Lucifer and Chloe turn to Ella, their ears catching something that makes them pause.

“The lieutenant is here?” Chloe asks.

Ella turns to her and nods, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me down by the bar.”

Their eyes turn to the bar, and it takes them a second, but they lock onto the Eric, still nursing a drink and making sure to keep the seat next to him empty.

“Anyway, I know you guys are busy so … I’ll come back later, yeah?” she asks.

“Careful, Ms. Lopez,” Lucifer says, eying her as she begins to descend the steps.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Chloe turns to Lucifer.

“If the Lieutenant is here, there’s a good chance Abel might be here as well.”

Lucifer nods.

Amenadiel shakes his head, “Okay, so what is the plan?”

“We put on a show,” Lucifer says, a devious smile across his face.

\--

Eric sits by himself at the bar, slowly sipping on a White Russian. He is lost in thought, questions spinning around in his head. He should be on the floor, trying to convince one of the beautiful women in the club to meet him somewhere; to lay beneath him in a pile of sweaty flesh. Yet he was here, waiting patiently for Ella to return.

“Eric?” a voice from behind him says. He turns to see a tall blond in a red dress smiling at him. She rests her hand on him like she is familiar with him.

“Nice to see you here stranger,” she says, “How come you never called me?”

He looks at her oddly. He doesn’t know who she is.

“Uh,” he says, trying to fake something, “I … I’m sorry but do I know you?”

Her smile fades, and she realizes he doesn’t remember her. Her mouth scrunches, and she puts her weight on one heel, her posture becoming aggressive.

“Do you know me? I certainly hope so, you only _fucked_ me in the parking lot two nights ago.”

He closes his eyes, trying to block that out of his mind, “Right,” he says as he turns back to the direction Ella left.

He sees her descending the steps, coming back to the bar. They lock eyes and she smiles and waves. He turns back to the blonde, beginning to panic.

  
“Right,” he says again, “Uh …sorry? I uhm… I was really drunk that night, and I don’t remember anything.”

She nods, not believing him, “You’re a bad liar,” she says. She eyeballs his drink before grabbing it and tossing it in his face then walking away.

He squints, trying to keep it from falling into his eyes. The bartender comes by and hands him a napkin. He nods.

“Thanks.”

Ella approaches him, her eyes wide with shock.

“What was that?” she asks, looking back as the woman fades into the crowd, “Do you need me to kick her ass? I mean, I can’t do much in these heels but they weren’t expensive, and you know _I know_ how to hide a body.”

He laughs as he wipes the drink off his face.

“Apparently I am bad with women,” he says.  
  
Ella sets the clipboard on the bar and grabs a napkin. She flips his tie over his shoulder and begins to dab his shirt down.

“How can someone so cute be so bad with women?” she asks,” What did you say to her?”

He looks at her, a look of surprise in his face.

“You think I’m cute?”

She pauses for a second then stops cleaning his shirt and sets the napkins on the counter, “Sure, but like in a … younger cousin kind of way,” she says turning back to the bar.

“Mm,” he hums, in affirmation, “and do you often go on dates with your cousin?” he asks, cheekily.

She turns to him, eyes wide.

“This is not a date!” she says.

He nods, “It most certainly is.”

“It totally is not!” she says.

He frowns and wipes his hand with the napkin before setting them back down on the bar. There is silence between them for a moment.

“Well you look great considering this is a non-date,” he says, “I’m curious to see how beautiful you look when you are _trying_ to impress.”

She turns to him, her eyes cautiously meeting his. Suddenly, she turns her head away from him, not wanting to smile in his face to encourage him. She turns back to him with a straight face, yet a smile still behind her eyes.

“If I had a drink, I’d throw it in your face right now,” she says.

He chuckles, “Well allow me to remedy that,” he says raising his hand to flag down the bartender, “Afterall, I do owe you.”

She adjusts herself in her seat, now pleased, “You do! I’m glad you remembered.”

The bartender comes over to him quickly.

“Another white Russian?” he asks.

Eric shakes his head no and turns to Ella.

“Pick your poison,” he says. She smiles and turns to the bartender and is about to say something when she looks down at the napkins on the table.

“I’ll have a black Russian,” she says. The bartender nods and begins to make the drink.

Eric raises his eyebrows in surprise. He had half expected her to order some fruity drink like a cosmo. All the women in this city tended or order something like that.

“Coffee and vodka?” he says, an intrigue in his voice, “No fruity drink with a straw?”

“Yeah, well,” she says, her eyes momentarily turning to the private booth where Lucifer and Amenadiel stare out into the crowd. She turns her eyes back to Eric, “I have a feeling I’ll be up all night.”

Eric’s whole face turns red, and he attempts to adjust his necktie, which suddenly feels way too tight. She looks at him oddly, then realizes what she might have said.

“Oh no!” she says, correcting herself, “Not like that. I didn’t mean it like that,” she says.

He looks at her oddly, as she tries to get the point across that she is _not_ having sex with him. Then she realizes what it might look like that she is so against the idea; as if he were utterly undesirable.

“Not that I wouldn’t,” she says, “You’re perfectly like…”

He raises his eyebrows, this conversation is taking a turn.

“But I’m just… ,“ she continues, trying to find the words.

Her face is a mish-mash of confusion, surprise, and embarrassment and her body flushes with heat, “ I’m going to shut up now.”

The bartender places Ella’s black Russian down on the bar, and Ella turns to it.

“Thank _God_ ,” she says, before pausing. She knew God was real, but now that she knows God was real, did he actually hear everything?   
She turns to her clipboard and pulls the pen from behind the clasp. She flips to the last page and begins writing.

Eric laughs, “I’m starting to realize why you are single now Ms. Lopez. You’re as bad with men as I am with women.”

Eric reaches for his wallet to pay for the drink, but the bartender stops him.

“On the house,” he says, “Ladies night.”

Eric frowns and is about to say something, but the bartender walks away to someone else. Ella places the pen back in her clipboard and reaches for her drink.

He sighs and turns to her dejected, “He didn’t take my money.”

She smiles and lifts her drink to her mouth, “It’s a shame, really,” she says, “it looks like you’re going to have to take me somewhere else to make things even.”

She sips on her drink, a sultriness behind her eyes that makes him nervous.

“Another non-date?” he asks, “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Lopez.”

They stare at one another, a tension between them that he has no idea what to do with.

Suddenly, the music stops and the light cuts on. Lucifer’s voice begins to play over the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he says. They turn to see him standing at the edge of the balcony on the second floor, beginning to descend the steps.

“I want to personally thank you for coming out this evening for our Last Night on Earth. I do hope you are enjoying yourself. And to the ladies, I hope you are enjoying your drinks.”

The women in the crowd go wild and scream in excitement. Ella woo’s with them, and Eric turns to her with a smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lucifer says as he starts to descend the steps.

The crowd laughs in response.

“Tonight is a special night,” he says, “more special than you know and I’d like to … celebrate this evening with a song. Will you allow me to play you a song?” he says, reaching the bottom of the steps and beginning to walk to his piano.

The crowd cheers again, this time louder and with a rumble.

He hums beneath his breath; a sexuality there that makes the women in the audience swoon,

“Oh, you are too kind to me,” he says.

He sits down at his piano and attaches the microphone to a little stand on top. He begins to play; softly but with great skill.

Eric’s eyes turn to Ella, who watches Lucifer with her back rested against the bar. Her legs are crossed on the stool, revealing just enough of her thigh that Eric’s eyes can’t stop looking at. His heart races enough that he turns his eyes away. He should be trying to convince her to go with him to a secluded section of the club. He should be trying to run his hands over her soft skin. He should be running his tongue up her neck, yet … he can’t. He wants to but … _he can’t_.

Suddenly the music Lucifer has been playing sinks into his brain and turns his attention off of Ella and onto Lucifer. He watches Lucifer as his head tilts. He recognizes the tune that Lucifer is playing. His eyes squint. _Where has he heard it before?_

“It’s so beautiful,” Ella whispers to Eric, “I didn’t know he wrote his own songs.”

Eric pauses once he realizes where he’s heard this before. His breathing begins to become heavy.

“He doesn’t,” he says, a terror churning just behind his eyes, before his last moment of clarity. Before the sound sends him back to a place he had been avoiding for forever; _home_.

 


	16. There's No Place like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric has a flashback, Lucifer and Amenadiel race to prove Eric's true identity and Maze babysits a drunk Ella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a chapter in between this one and the last one as this one was too long.

  
Inside a rickety shack, a young man, in what appears to be his early 20’s, sleeps quietly on a bed of hay. Sunlight pokes through the spaces between wooden boards. He sweats in his sleep, but he seems used to it.

Suddenly, the door to the shack opens, and a slightly older man stands in the doorway. He looks down at the man on the ground and frowns.

“Abel!” he yells.

Abel wakes up and sits up quickly. His eyes adjust as he sees his older brother, Cain, in the doorway.

“There is much work to be done, Brother. Why do you sleep?”

Abel stands up and brushes the hay off his body. Nearby a large wooden stick is partially covered by feed. He reaches down and picks it up.

“It seems I needed a reprieve from the flock,” he says.

“There will much time for that when the sun falls,” he says, angrily leaving.

Abel sighs and pauses for a moment. Then he exits the shack onto the green grass of a farm. He watches as Cain crosses the open field filled with sheep and heads to a separate fenced off area with growing crops.

  
He approaches the flock of sheep who graze happily on fresh grass.

“Good day ladies, you might have warned me my brother was near,” he says turning his eyes to Cain as he walks out of sight, behind the family home.

“I feel great shame that sometimes I wish my brother were far from here,” he says turning back to the sheep, “he wants nothing more than to be my master.”

The sheep don’t respond – obviously – and he sighs. He reaches out and runs his fingers across the tightly wound wool of a nearby sheep. His brow knits, and he looks up at the sun.

“I believe it is almost time to have you sheered,” he says to himself.

He stands there momentarily watching his sheep’s graze. A content smile across his face. It wasn’t always in his favor to tend to the flock, but it was peaceful, and they listened to him. He sighs and stares out into the open sky, wondering if there were any other form of life he could lead.

“Hello Abel,” a voice from behind him says.

Startled, he turns to see a man in a robe with a horn attached to his hip, standing nearby. His eyes look confused, and he turns to looks around.

Where did he come from?

“I have a message for you Abel,” the man says.

“Who are you?” Abel asks.

“I am Iridius, but you may call me Ira. I am the deliverer of messages from the Silver City.”

“Oh,” he says, “You’re an Angel.”

Iridius squints his brow, confused at the sudden stating of facts.

“And you are human,” he says matter of factly.

Abel laughs and turns back to his flock.

“My father has requested you make an offering unto him,” Iridius says.

Abel turns to him, “An offering? For what occasion?”

Iridius frowns, “I do not interpret, I only deliver.” He says.

Abel sighs and nods, “Very well. I will butcher one of my flock to please him.”

“Excellent,” Iridius says, “he will choose the greater offering of the two.”

Abel turns to him, “Of the two?”

Iridius nods, “Yes, it shall be between you and your brother. The greater of the two will win Father’s favor.”

Abel thinks for a moment. A chance to get the better of Cain? He should have led with that.

“Then it shall be,” he says happily.

Suddenly, the sheep begin to go wild and stray from each other. Abel looks around confused.

“What are you doing?” he asks them, not expecting and answer. His eyes snap to the edge of the field, where - just beyond a high fence - a wolf prowls.

“They are afraid of the wolf,” Iridius says, “they do not know he cannot enter the field.”

“It’s okay, ladies!” Abel says, rushing to gather them back into one cohesive unit. They do not listen, and a few begin to stray farther away.

Iridius pulls the horn from his side and begins to play a soothing tune. It is ethereal and calming, and slowly the sheep start to coalesce into one big group again.

“What was that?” Abel asks.

“It is a song I learned from my mother,” he says, “The song of nurture. It calms even the wildest of beasts. It reminds them things will be okay; that someone is looking after them. We often use it to soothe the fledglings before they sleep.”

“I thought Angels don’t need to sleep?” he asks confused.

Iridius smiles. It is truly fascinating how humans have become so curious.

“Angels age quickly in their youth,” he says,” It requires immense amounts of energy. Even more so when we begin learning to fly. So, we use the song to force them into slumber. It helps the ease the process.”

Abel nods, “I did not know that.”

  
Iridius smiles. “Now you know.”

  
Abel looks to the edge of the field and sees the wolf has disappeared.

  
“Can you teach it to me?” Abel asks.

  
Iridius shakes his head

  
“I cannot, it is forbidden.”

  
“How will I protect my sheep if I cannot calm them?” he asks.

  
Iridius shakes his head, “I cannot teach you the song, Abel. It is forbidden for mortals. Your minds are weak and easily swayed.”

  
Abel sighs, “I understand. I am just perplexed as to how I can raise a praiseworthy flock if they are so quick to stir by prowling wolves.”

  
Iridius looks at him oddly. Abel doesn’t look at him. Instead, he stares out into his flock, a look of great concern.

  
“I suppose ….” Iridius says, staring back into the flock, “I suppose it might be of use this one instance.”

  
Abel turns to him, his smile wide with joy.

  
“Excellent.”

  
\--

  
Later that evening, in the family home, Abel and Cain set their offerings on the table beneath the light of dim candles. Their parents, Adam and Eve, clean and tidy the last bits of their dining room – which is also their living room and kitchen – with the expectation that soon their guests will arrive.

On the table, Abel has prepared a choice dish of whole roasted lamb, from the very best in his flock. Abel has a full array of crops grown from his farm. He proudly displays them on the table.

They are both putting the final touches on their dishes when the door opens, and in steps Michael followed briefly by God. Adam, Eve, Cain and Abel all turn to him and kneel before him.

God looks over the table before him and smiles. He is pleased with what he sees.

“Abel,” he says, turning to Abel. Abel looks up towards him and meets his eyes. Behind them swirls a galaxy and the promise of love and knowledge.

“You’ve prepared a wonderful meal for me. If I had the necessary desire, I would enjoy it greatly,” he says.

Abel smiles and turns to his parents who smile proudly. He turns back to God.

“I did as you asked of me,” he says.

God nods and smiles.

God turns to Adam and Eve, his smile fading. He looks at them displeased, and they avert their eyes. They know what they did. God turns to leave when Cain stands up.

“And what of me and my offering?” he asks.

God turns to Michael and nods. He exits, and Michael follows behind him shortly.

Cain stands there, his confusion turning to anger. His eyes turn to Abel as Abel lovingly begins to dish out food to his parents. God made no mention of the crops that he toiled endlessly for. Yet, Abel, who is often caught sleeping in the hay shed, was given praise. It seems … _unfair._

  
\--

The next morning, Abel stands in his field tending to his sheep. He hums the song Iridius taught him, and it seems to calm the sheep considerably. He smiles and kneels. He plucks a handful of grass from his hands and holds it out. A nearby sheep comes up to him and begins to eat from his hands.

Behind him, Cain approaches.

“Brother,” Cain says, “I must show you something in the field. There is an empty plot where crops will not grow.”

Abel stands, pulling himself up quickly by bearing his weight on his staff. He turns to Cain as he brushes away the remnants of grass on his hands by wiping it on his robe.

“I am a Shepard, not a farmer, Cain,” he says, “I doubt I will be of much assistance. Besides, who will watch the flock?”

Cain smiles, “It will only be momentarily,” he says, “Your offering was praised while mine was not. I imagine your words could be of guidance to me.”

Abel turns to Cain and squints his eyes. Why was he so nice suddenly?

He turns briefly to his flock, then looks at the edge of the field. No wolf.

Abel sighs then turns to Cain and nods.

“Very well, but only momentarily. I must tend to the animals,” he says. Cain nods.

Together they cross the farm, exit a fence and walk behind the family home to an adjacent field filled with crops and high grass. Abel continues to hum the song of nurture.  
  
Cain turns to him, an odd look on his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Hm?” Abel says.

“The sound you are creating, what is that?” he asks.

“It is a song that an angel taught me yesterday,” Abel says, “I have no instrument, so I am using my mouth.”

“An angel taught you music?” he asks, “Are you, friends?”

Abel thinks for a moment and nods, “I believe so,” he says.

He continues to hum as Cain walks forward. They cross into the farm and Cain leads him to the center of the field where a bare patch of dirt stands out amongst rows and rows of crops.

Abel looks at it then at Cain.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” Abel asks.

Cain nods and gestures for him to get a closer look.

Abel leans down and feels the dirt with his hands.

“I am no farmer brother, but this soil looks fresh to me. I cannot imagine crops will not grow here,” he says turning around just as Cain raises a rock and hits him on the side of the head. It cracks open a wound by his ear and sends blood dripping down his neck.

Abel falls onto the ground and looks up, a look of shock and confusion in his eyes.

“Brother, why have you struck me?” he asks, bringing his hand up to his ear. He feels the area where he was struck and removes his hand to find it is covered in blood. He looks up at Cain, shock still in his eyes. Cain stands over him, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. He raises the rock and strikes him again, sending more blood splashing onto his face and clothing.

“Cain!,” Abel says, the pain in his voice, “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

He hits him again, but Abel blocks the blow with his arm. Cain’s blow is forceful enough to break the skin on his arm, leaving a trail of bruising and blood in its place. Abel cries out in pain. Cain is much stronger than him, having spent his days toiling the earth. Not to mention he is older.

“Brother! Please! No!” he says.

He can see the rage in Cain’s eyes. He can see that he will not stop. He will continue hitting him until he is dead. The thought crosses his mind that he should fight back, that Cain should be the one who dies. Had he killed Cain earlier and none of this would be happening. The adrenaline in his system overtakes him, and he can feel his own rage building. Cain reaches up, and with one final blow, Abel’s vision goes black.

\--

Abel opens his eyes. He no longer feels the pain on his face, but he is also no longer on the farm. He looks around onto an endless horizon of ash and fire. In the distance, he can barely make out the form of figures. It seems as if they are building something. He stands up and attempts to dust the ash off his shoulders, but it just keeps falling.

“Hello, Abel,” a voice from behind him says.

He turns to see a tall man, burned from head to toe, his eyes lit with fire. Behind him, a pair of burned wings extend, like they are too painful to collapse. Abel’s eyes widen, and he stumbles backward.

“Are you… an angel?” he asks.

The man’s eyes light aflame, burning brighter within his skull as if someone has tossed kerosene onto a fire.

“I do apologize for the lack of accommodations, but we hadn’t expected someone so soon,” he says, slowly walking closer to him as Abel backs up.

“Who… who are you?” Abel says, the terror in his voice.

“I go by many names, but you can call me Lucifer.”

The name rings throughout his ears he remembers the being told of a fallen Samael, of how he was raising an army of demons to take over heaven; how he would torture humans in the afterlife for their sins.

Abel shakes his head, “No,” he says, “I … I lived a good life.”

Lucifer smiles and continues walking to him.

“I’m afraid not,” he says, “not if you are here. You must have done something.”

Abel backs up but suddenly stops, like he’s hit a wall. He turns to see a few demons standing there, smiles on their faces.

He turns back to Lucifer.

“Now, I truly am sorry Abel,” Lucifer says,” but it seems fate can be cruel to us all.”

“I … I don’t understand,” Abel says as the demons move closer to him.

“You will,” Lucifer says, turning and walking away. The demons descend onto Abel.

Abel let’s out a scream that echoes into the headspace around him.

  
\--

  
Back in Lucifer’s Club, Lucifer continues to tickles the piano keys. A calm look over his face that suggests the song is more for him than anyone else. He looks relaxed and at peace.

Meanwhile, Eric stares forward, his breathing ragged and his eyes filled with tears. The world around him is still and silent, and all he can hear are his screams echoing through his head. Ella sits nearby, enjoying Lucifer’s song. She turns to Eric to see how he is enjoying the music, and her smile fades.

“Eric?” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder. It does nothing, he’s locked into whatever he is seeing. It has its teeth into him and won’t let him go.

He continues staring forward, a silent terror on his face as his eyes water. She looks down to see him clenching his fist so forcefully, his knuckles turn white.

“Eric!”

Still nothing. His eyes water heavily, and his lip begins to quiver. It destabilizes him from within and threatens to break him. He’s gone, and she’s not sure she can bring him back.

  
She looks around, searching for anyone that can assist her. Her eyes naturally float up top to the private booth, where Maze, Chloe, and Amenadiel sit. Amenadiel is lost in thought, a peacefulness over his own eyes. Chloe is … just lost, something behind her eyes that is not of this world. Maze looks like she is on the prowl, her eyes drifting across the various women in the club and what they are wearing. She licks her lips and takes a sip.

  
Ella waves, trying to get Maze’s attention, but nothing happens.

  
Suddenly, Eric lets out a blood-curdling scream. The crowd turns to him. Those standing nearby him part until it is just him and Ella at an empty bar. Lucifer suddenly stops playing and stands, the stool on his chair sliding and reverberating through a now silent club.

  
Eric continues to stare forward, tears dripping from his eyes now and his breathing ragged. He mumbles something beneath his breath that Ella can’t quite make out. His knuckles are so tight that his nails dig into his palms and begin to bleed.

She stares at him, shock in her eyes and a heaviness in her heart. It reminds her too much of her Uncle. How he would stare into nothingness all day and seemingly all night. How he would mumble beneath his breath. She is unsure if it was something she had done. What if it had always been something she had done?

At the top of the second landing, Amenadiel stands and move forward. He turns his gaze to Lucifer, and they share eye contact. Amenadiel nods.

Lucifer turns to the bar, a devious smile on his face.

  
“Well that was quite easy,” he says beneath his breath, shocked but also disappointed. He had expected more of a fight.

  
Ella looks out onto the crowd as they stare at Eric and her, trying to figure out what is going on. She turns back to him, he stares into nothingness; a darkness behind his eyes that signals he is completely lost. Her eyes begin to tear.

“Eric?” she asks, cautiously placing her hand on his arm. He doesn’t stir. Instead, he stares directly forward. Whatever he is seeing is not LUX. It isn’t the bright lights, the free-flowing drinks or the beautiful women and it definitely isn’t her.

  
Amenadiel and Maze descend the steps quickly and approach the bar. Ella looks at Amenadiel confused, a glassiness in her eyes that tells him she is on the verge of tears.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, “It’ll all be fine.”

Amenadiel leans his body into Eric’s and tosses him over his shoulder in one fell swoop. The crowd parts way for him as he heads up to the elevator of Lucifer’s penthouse. Ella is left standing there shaking. She turns back to people who look at her oddly.

Maze comes up to her and grabs Eric’s cane before tossing it to Lucifer who catches it in the air. Smoothly, she turns back to Ella.

“You okay kiddo?” she asks.

  
“I don’t know what happened,” Ella says, confusion in her eyes.

“Well,” Lucifer says into his microphone, “I don’t believe it was that bad.”

The crow laughs uncomfortably.

  
“I suppose that is it for me tonight,” he says, moving away from his piano, “please do continue your evening of debauchery.”

  
The music comes back on, and slowly people get back into the groove. The space around Ella closes, and Maze escorts her up to the private booth. She gestures to a bartender to keep the drinks coming.

  
-

  
Dan’s apartment is dark and silent. His front door turns, and he opens it up before carefully flicking on a light switch. It brightens up his apartment just enough to guide him, but not enough to wake a sleeping Trixie who is draped over his shoulder.

  
He enters his apartment and gently shuts the door behind him before setting his keys, on a side table by the front door and a little pink backpack on the floor nearby.

  
“Okay baby,” he says silently, “let’s get you comfy, yeah?”

  
He slowly enters his bedroom and sets her gently on his bed. She stirs slightly, but not enough to wake. He smiles lovingly then takes her foot and unties her shoe before slipping it off and gently resting it on the ground near him. He does the same to the other foot then sips both her socks off and shoves them into one pair. Then he pulls the covers back, tucks her leg inside the gently tucks her in. He kisses her on the forehead.

  
“Good Night Monkey,” he says before exiting the bedroom and gently shutting the door behind him.

Once it is shut, he sighs and attempts to wipe the tiredness off his face.

  
He approaches his couch and plops down on it, letting out a deep sigh. He leans his head back and slips his shoes off by pushing the backs of them with his feet. He reaches down and unzips his belt for comfort.

  
He closes his eyes, trying to sleep but his mind is reeling with so many unanswered questions. He had spent all day trying to catch up with work, but it was nearly impossible when he still didn’t know how he ended up passed out on Lucifer’s couch or why he felt like he was forgetting _something_. It was right there on the tip of his tongue. Obviously, it must not be significant enough if he forgot it but … that thought didn’t help.

  
He opens his eyes and turns his head to the TV. Maybe a little television will help him sleep. He reaches out for the remote on his coffee table and turns on the TV, making sure the volume is low as to not wake Trixie.

  
The first channel that pops up is the news channel. They cover a story about the long lines at LUX and how some people have been waiting an hour to get in. Dan scoffs. Why would anyone wait that long to get into LUX? The thought occurs to him that he’s hardly ever had to wait in line to get into LUX since he met Lucifer. Maybe early on when he and Lucifer weren’t sure of each other. Technically he’s still not sure of Lucifer but, they get along somewhat now. I guess he’s good for something he thinks.  
He closes his eyes and tries to relax further into his chair. It doesn’t seem to work; he feels like he is missing something. _But what?_

  
\--

  
Inside Lucifer’s Penthouse Amenadiel, Lucifer and Chloe stand near the bar discussing what to do with the Lieutenant.

  
“How can you be so sure?” Amenadiel asks, his arms crossed.

  
“You heard the way he screamed,” Lucifer says, “Now why would he scream during that song of all songs.”

  
“PTSD is strange,” Amenadiel says, “anything could have triggered it. You know humans are fragile.”

  
“Fragile or not,” Chloe says stepping in, “we need to be careful. If it turns out he isn’t Abel, anything you do can make it worse.”

  
“We can always just make him forget,” Lucifer says, “I mean, we’ve done it before.”

  
Amenadiel shakes his head, “This might be too deep for that Luci,” he says, “forgetting a person is easy, but forgetting a monumental event? That’s not possible.”

  
They all turn to the lieutenant who sits on the couch, his eyes staring forward, his facing still dripping with tears. He is silent now, locked into whatever he is seeing.

  
“Either way, we need to get him out of whatever he is in soon,” Chloe says, “It can’t be good for him.”

  
Lucifer sighs. He knows this is Abel, but how can he prove it? And what if they are right? What if he is wrong. What if he is so eager to save the city and the detective, that he is allowing a decoy to get the better of him.

  
\--

  
Downstairs Ella and Maze sit in the private booth; the curtain drawn around them. Ella has wiped her tears and stares out into a blank space trying to wrap her head around what happened.

Ella shakes her head, “I don’t get it. One moment he was fine, and we were talking, the next he …he was gone.”

  
The curtain parts and a bartender walks in with four shots on a tray. Maze motions him to bring it to her, and he sets the tray on a table.

  
“Keep them coming, yeah?” she asks. He nods and exits. Maze takes a shot and downs it with ease, she sits back and looks at the glass and nods. That was smooth.

  
She looks over to Ella who has a quizzical look on her face like she is trying to piece together a puzzle. Maze sighs and picks up another shot and holds it out in front of Ella.

  
“Here,” she says,” Take this. It will make you feel better.”

  
Ella shakes her head, “I … I think maybe I should just go home,” she says.

  
Maze shrugs and downs the shot herself.

  
“Suit yourself. I never took you for the type to let a guy ruin your night, but … I guess that’s why I’m not a shrink.”

  
Ella turns to her.

  
“I’m not letting him ruin my night. It’s not his fault,” she says.

  
Maze looks at her, her eyes calling bullshit.

  
Ella sighs and sits back in her chair.

  
“You wouldn’t understand,” she says, “I know what it’s like to deal with what he’s going through.”

  
She turns to Maze who looks at her oddly.

  
“When he was young, my mom told me my uncle wanted to be a writer. He would spend hours scribbling notes in his journal. He had so many friends. He’d go every night to a local coffee shop, and they’d do nothing but talk about their novels or screenplays,” she says.

  
Maze listens intently. She can hear the sadness in her voice, and for a second it disturbs her, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen Ella this sad. Ella leans back and tilts her head upward as if remembering something.

  
“I never really got to see that side of him. By the time I was old enough to understand what was happening, he had been home from the war for a little over a decade. I never knew him as the man he was, just the man he had become. A shell; a ghost ...”

  
Maze turns her eyes downward. This was uncomfortable, she didn’t know what to do with this sadness.

  
“I did love him,” she says, her eyes finally meeting Maze’s. Maze can see the tears begin to swell in them.

  
“But war…,” Ella says, turning to look off into the distance, trying to find the words, “The things he had seen he couldn’t unsee. He didn’t write anymore, we never spoke. He just stared at the wall, mumbling beneath his breath.”

  
She looks away, making the connection between her uncle and Eric. Her eyes squint and she hums curiously.

  
“Maybe that is why I was so … gung ho about getting Eric out there. He reminded me of my Uncle, of the life he could have had. But maybe I just … I don’t know enough about it to really help him.”

  
“That’s weird,” Maze says, adjusting herself in her seat.

  
Ella turns to her with a confused look.

  
“That you want to fuck your Uncle,” Maze says.

  
Ella looks horrified, “What!?”

  
“Yeah you said Eric reminds you of your Uncle, you want to fuck Eric, ergo …” she says, waiting for Ella to finish the sentence.

  
When Ella doesn’t – for obvious reasons- she says,” You want to fuck your Uncle.”

  
“I don’t want to fuck my uncle!” she says, just as the curtain parts and the bartender comes in with four more shots. Ella turns to him, and he looks like he just walked in on something he shouldn’t. He sets the tray down and leaves.

  
“I don’t want to fuck my uncle!” she says, calling after him, to make sure that he understands.

  
Maze chuckles and reaches for another shot, she holds it out for Ella to take. Ella looks at her angrily then takes the shot and downs it in one go. Maze looks impressed.

  
“I’m just saying … I thought I could help him, but .. maybe I just made things worse,” she says.

  
“Don’t worry about it,” Maze says reaching for another shot and handing it to Ella,” I’m sure they are doing their best to help him right now. You know, with an angel and the devil on your shoulder, you have endless options.”

  
Ella looks at the shot, then back at Maze. Maze nods and holds it in her direction again. She sighs and takes it before downing it in one gulp.

  
\--

  
The lieutenant stares out into nothingness, his breathing is calm and still, and his tears have dried up, but he still stares out – a blank expression on his face.  
Suddenly, Lucifer slaps him across the face.

  
“Wake up Lieutenant!” he yells. Chloe turns to him from the bar and rushes over to him.

  
“Lucifer!” she yells, “What are you doing?!”

  
“I’m trying to get his attention Detective,” he says. He slaps him again, Eric’s face turning and his cheeks now pink – but he still doesn’t react.

  
“Lucifer! STOP!” Chloe says, grabbing his hand. She looks at him as if a mother were scolding her child.

  
“What is _wrong_ with you?” she asks.

  
“Have you forgotten the city is about to be destroyed, detective? I promise when this is all over if he turns out not to be who I think he is I will send him a fruit basket.”

  
He around before noticing his drink on the piano behind him.

  
“Until then,” he says, grabbing it and chucking the bourbon into the Lieutenants face, “allow me to try my method.”

  
She looks at him shocked. Lucifer smacks him one more time, and her face goes from shocked to livid.

  
“Lucifer!” she yells, about to lay into him again. That is until the lieutenant turns to Lucifer; clarity in his eyes.

  
“Ow,” he says, reaching up to his face. Chloe turns to him shocked, then back at Lucifer who raises his eyebrows as to suggest, “See?”

  
“I’m sorry Mr. Morningstar,” he says, rubbing his face, “I don’t recall us ever having sex in a car.”

  
“That’s because we weren’t Lieutenant,” Lucifer says, “Trust me, you’d remember.”

  
Eric looks around, gathering his bearings. He sees Amenadiel sitting at Lucifer’s bar and Lucifer and Chloe standing in front of him. His cane leans against a stool at the edge of the bar.

  
“Do you mind?” he asks pointing to his cane.

  
“Of course,” Lucifer says, “but let’s have a chat first, yeah?”

  
Lucifer moves to sit on the bench by his piano. He crosses his legs comfortably.

  
“We do need to talk, but I think we may have to wait for another day,” he says, “I’m not feeling too well. You understand?” Eric says.

  
“Oh, I do,” he says, “but I don’t think you’ll be leaving here in an Uber.”

  
He looks at Lucifer oddly.

  
“I… I don’t understand. Is this about me firing you?” he asks.

  
Amenadiel chuckles and Lucifer turns to him.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m just … the devil can’t keep a mortal job.”

  
Lucifer turns to him, an offended look on his face.

  
“Laugh it up, brother, but this is certainly not about my improper firing,” he says, turning back to the lieutenant.

  
The lieutenant sits up on the couch.

  
“Improper?” Eric says, “I’m surprised you weren’t fired sooner.

  
“Lieutenant, I realize you can’t see it as you were only here for a short time, but I am quite the asset,” Lucifer says.

  
“Is that so? You’re spontaneous, you have zero training and many times you have done the exact opposite of what protocol dictates.”

  
“Well, I get results, do I not?” he asks.

  
He shakes his head, “The means do not justify the ends, Mr. Morningstar,” he says.

  
Lucifer stands, his voice rising, “The ends are exactly what justifies the means Abel,” he says, placing his hands in his pockets, “but you should already believe that, considering you killed a messenger to hide your plan.”

  
Eric pauses and looks at Lucifer, his eyebrows knitting and a look of confusion coming over his face. He turns to Chloe and Amenadiel who look at him as if waiting for something.

  
He turns back to Lucifer, “What?” he asks.

  
Lucifer sighs,” Oh come on Abel,” he says, “let’s not play this game. You can manipulate mortals, but you are hard pressed to manipulate the devil.”

  
Eric shakes his head, “I’m sorry, there’s a lot to unpack here. Are you accusing me of murder?” he asks completely baffled.

  
Lucifer sighs upset it won’t be as easy as he thought. He needs to confirm this is, in fact, Abel before Michael arrives. Otherwise, they are just wasting time.

  
Lucifer walks back towards the bar to pour himself a drink.

  
“I, I don’t understand what you are going on about,” Eric says, straightening himself in the seat, “but I certainly didn’t kill anyone,” he says, a serious tone in his voice that suggests an innate absurdity in the situation.

  
He turns to Chloe, confusion in his eyes, “Detective?” he says, waiting for her to back him up.

  
Lucifer turns around, a rage building in his voice, “You don’t get to address her,” he says, “It is because of you she nearly perished.”

  
Eric pauses, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.

  
“I… I think tensions are running a little high tonight. Maybe there have been too many drinks floating around,” he says, watching Lucifer pour himself a glass, “perhaps we should sober up and approach this tomorrow?”

  
“There will be no tomorrow,” Lucifer says, “there will be no Los Angeles to wake up to.”

  
Lucifer turns around and takes a sip of his drink, “Not unless you confess right now.”

  
Eric shakes his head, “Mr. Morningstar, I’ve heard several stories about your proclivities, but neither of them involved kidnapping. Now, I understand you like to work in allegories, and I apologize if I’ve upset you, but …this,” he says pointing at him and Lucifer, “This cannot end well if we continue along this route.”

  
Lucifer sighs into his drink and takes a sip before setting it down at the bar.

  
“Now if you have a lead or some information on a murder, I will be more than happy to assist you with the full resources of the department but … this does not bode well if you are attempting to petition your job back.”

  
Lucifer shakes his head. He saw the look in the lieutenant’s eyes when he played that song. No mortal reacts to that song the way he did. Suddenly, his eyes light up, and he turns to his piano.

  
“Very well Lieutenant,” he says, bringing his drink over to his piano and setting it on the edge. He opens the hood of his piano and adjusts himself in his seat.

  
“Wha, what are you doing?” he asks.

  
“Oh,” Lucifer says, turning to him nonchalantly, “I wanted to play you a song before you leave.”

  
Eric nervously looks towards Chloe, then back to Lucifer.

  
“I … I don’t think this is appropriate Mr. Morningstar.”

  
Lucifer raises his hand and right before his fingers touch the keys, Eric reaches his hand out.

  
“No!” he says.

  
Lucifer turns to him, his eyebrow arched.

  
“I … music triggers me,” he says cautiously.

  
Lucifer raises his eyes.

  
“Music huh?” he says.

  
Eric nods, “So you see why I-“

  
Lucifer begins to play a simple song of The Itsy-Bitsy Spider. Amenadiel and Chloe look at Lucifer oddly while Eric looks on. Lucifer turns to him a look in his eyes questioning.

  
“I … it’s not all songs,” he says, clarifying.

  
Lucifer nods, “No? how about this one.”

  
“Lucifer,” Chloe warns, gently telling him not to play a song.

  
Lucifer switches his song to Moonlight Sonata. Eric turns back to Chloe, then turns his eyes to his cane. She turns and looks at the cane, then at him. His eyes bore into her soul, and suddenly she feels wrong about being in that room. Her eyes turn back to the cane. Perhaps she should help him? What if he isn’t Abel? _He’s still her boss_.

  
Eric looks back towards Lucifer.

Lucifer turns to him, “Not this one either? This is a regular game of Jack-in-the-box. Makes me wonder which one will make you pop,” he says.

  
“Mr. Morningstar,” he says.

  
“How about this one?” he says, switching to a different song.

  
“Lucifer, this isn’t working. Maybe we should go back downstairs,” Chloe says, a deep concern and annoyance building in her voice.

  
“Patience Detective,” he says, his eyes never leaving Eric.

  
He continues to play, but it does nothing to Eric but make him nervous. Eric begins to sweat. He turns his eyes back to Chloe, a nervous energy in them. There is a strange innocence to him, she thinks, it reminds her of Trixie. He has a childlike innocence to him that she hadn’t noticed before. _What if this were Trixie?_

  
“Lucifer,” Chloe says stepping forward, “enough.”

  
“Detective,” he says, “I realize this seems unconventional-”

  
“No, Lucifer. We're done here,” she says, turning back to the bar and walking to his Cane.

  
Chloe grabs his cane off the bar and turns around to see Lucifer standing in front of her, a look in his eyes that is both cold yet warm. Amenadiel stands up quickly, a concern in his eyes.

  
“Lucifer,” he says, unsure of what his brother might do.

  
She looks up at him and can see the rage just behind his eyes, intentionally being held back.

  
“Detective,” he says calmly, his head raised and his voice deep like she had never heard before, “with all due respect, think about what is at stake here. I don’t think you are in the right frame of mind to be making any of these decisions. He almost killed you.”

  
She looks at him, her eyes squint. Is he attempting to intimidate her? Her eyes trace down the length of his body. His stance suggests he is not, but his eyes and the fire behind them. Not in the right frame of mind? Who is he to tell her what frame of mind she is in? The devil isn’t a mind reader. _Is this what he thinks of her?_ Of humans? Or mortals? He speaks about mortals like she wasn’t even in the room.

  
She takes in a deep breath, and her eyes turn to Eric – who stares at her intently. She turns back to Lucifer.

  
“Odd,” she says annoyed, “you didn’t seem to think that this morning.”

  
Lucifer inhales sharply as if he were stabbed by a knife. She walks by him, an air about her to suggest she was not afraid of him though, deep down, she knows that isn’t true. Lucifer pauses, reeling from her words before he quickly turns around.

  
“Chloe,” he says.

  
She stops, halfway between him and Eric.

  
“You told me you weren’t ready to talk about this morning and I obliged. I waited, and I am still waiting. I’ve kept up my end of the bargain,” he says.

  
She turns to him, she can see the hurt right behind his eyes.

  
“Don’t use that against me,” he continues, a wounded tone in his voice.

  
She looks at Eric, then back at Lucifer, the cane sturdily gripped in her hands. Her eyes move to Lucifer’s, a warmness behind them. She squints and turns back to Eric, her mind fighting hard between the two.

  
“I stopped,” Lucifer says, slowly approaching her. Chloe turns back to him. Their eyes meet again.

  
“I stopped, Detective.”

  
Chloe closes her eyes tightly. She doesn’t want to think about it, but she can’t help but think about it. The pressure of his body on hers; the feeling of him filling her inch by inch. The look in his eyes when it all became clear. She had wanted him so much at that moment, and she knew he did as well. Yet, one second they were intertwined like headphone cables in a pocket and the next they couldn’t be farther away from one another.

  
Suddenly, she feels a hand around hers and looks down to see Lucifer gently taking the cane from her hand. She turns and looks up towards him. He places a hand on her back gently, and she let’s go of the cane. Her eyes cautiously move to the Lieutenants, and he doesn’t look too happy.

  
She turns back to Lucifer, “I … I’m sorry. I don’t know –“

  
“It’s okay Detective,” he says reassuringly, but it doesn’t reassure her. Why had she been so quick to go against him?

She turns and heads back to the bar, her mind reeling with how easy it was. Would she think it easy to betray him? What if God was right? Is there an instance where he is wrong? Lucifer trusted her, and she trusted him. He would never hurt her, and she would never hurt him, yet there she was. So ... _eager._

Lucifer turns to Eric and leans onto the cane.

  
“Now that you're done showing off your parlor trick, where were we …” he says trailing off.

  
Eric sits back in his chair, an air of defeat to him. He turns his head forward, “I have nothing to say except that I hope you have a good lawyer.”

  
Lucifer chuckles, then his face falls flat, “The devil doesn’t need a lawyer.”

  
Eric’s eyes meet Lucifer’s. He can see a faint glow behind them. So faint, he isn’t sure whether it exists or not.

  
“Now,’ Lucifer says, approaching the bar to put the cane back in its place, “I suppose we can go back to our concerto? Any requests? I don’t do country, but I’ve been known to cover a pop song or two.”

  
Amenadiel sighs and steps forward.

  
“Perhaps Chloe is right,” he says, “Abel is a master manipulator. He convinced even an Angel to break a vow. What if he's tricked us into finding the wrong guy.“

  
“You heard him when I played the song brother,” Lucifer says.

  
“So what? He’s a weak minded and a physically wounded human. Abel would never let himself be perceived as such.”

  
“Abel would –“ he begins to say before stopping. He turns his eyes to Eric, a curious look on his face.

  
He turns his eyes back to the cane in his hand, then back to Eric.

  
Eric looks at him oddly.

  
“You’re right,” Lucifer says.

  
Amenadiel raises his eyes, not believing what he is hearing.

  
“Excuse me?” he says.

  
Lucifer turns to him, “You’re right brother. Abel would never weaken himself.”

  
Lucifer turns back to Eric, “but to him, it’s all a mind game. Three steps ahead of your opponent, never letting them get the edge over you. Understanding every angle and every person’s weakness. Hiding yourself in plain sight. A wolf in sheep's clothing.”

  
Suddenly it dawns on him. The messenger's message.

  
Lucifer squints his eyes, “What better a way to do that than to be in charge a place with a file on every person you might need to manipulate. Perhaps even keeping the special ones to yourself.”

  
Chloe furrows her brows, “Lucifer, we’ve already looked at our files. They didn’t have anything on them,” she says.

  
“Why would they Detective? When he gets a front row seat to us every day. Especially, if he puts one of us on desk duty.”

  
Eric looks back at Chloe who’s eyes widen in realization Lucifer might be right.

  
Eric shakes his head, “I don’t know what Is going on here, but … my name is Eric Adams.”

  
Lucifer shakes his head.

  
“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” he says, turning his eyes downward.

  
“Ezria said he saw you with your staff, but you don’t have a staff do you?” he says.

  
“Just a cane,” Chloe says beneath her breath. Loud enough for Lucifer to hear her. He turns to her then looks down at the cane.

  
He looks at Eric, then back at the cane.

  
“Oh, you are _good_ ,” he says, “bravo. Quite the disguise.”

  
Eric chuckles, “Okay, this is getting really weird for me. Again, I can’t stress enough how much trouble you are all in. There have been several people who have seen me come up here. They are going to start asking questions pretty soon.”

  
Lucifer furrows his brows, “Oh, I wouldn't be concerned about them.”

  
The fire in his eyes ignites and Eric’s eyes widen in horror.

  
“I'd be concerned about what I am going do to you.”

 


	17. Across the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Amenadiel are running out of time while Maze and Ella have a personal conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last part. Next part should be out in a few days as I am currently editing and putting the final touches on it. Fair warning, it is going to be super - super - smutty so if you don't want to read that, maybe just .... tap out right now, and I'll see you in the next part of this series. I'll try and do a brief recap so you'll know what you missed. Thanks so much for reading and commenting!

  
In the private booth of LUX Maze and Ella sit comfortably next to a few empty shot glasses. Ella is on another page of her clipboard, laughing to herself.

“Oh my God,” she says, wiping a tear away from her eyes before pausing. She thinks for a moment.

“You think he cares when we say that?” she asks.

Maze looks at her oddly, “Wrong team kiddo,” she says reaching for the last shot on the table.

“Frankly I would consider it a compliment," she continues, "You know how many humans I’ve had sex with that choose to use that particular phrase during climax? It’s kind of a real buzzkill. Just _once_ , I wish they would just say my name.”

She brings the glass up to her lips just as the bartender comes through the curtains with another four shouts.

“Mm!” she hums, swallowing the gulp of alcohol, “just in time!”

  
He sets it down and picks up the tray with empty glasses before leaving.

  
“How many … humans,” Ella says, trying to pick her words carefully, “have you ... _you know_ …”

  
Maze raises her eyebrows.

  
“Had sex with?” Maze asks.

Ella nods.

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight here. We’re adults, let’s not beat around the bush, yeah?” she says reaching over to hand Ella a shot.

Ella looks at it cautiously. She’s already had four shots, and she knows she is right on the cusp of not being able to feel her legs. A fifth one might not be a good idea.

Maze raises her eyebrows at Ella’s hesitation, “What? Can’t keep up?”

Ella looks at her oddly, then angrily.

“Are you challenging me?” she asks.

Maze thinks for a moment.

“It depends, if I say yes will you drink the shot?”

Ella looks at her oddly then downs the shot.

“Atta girl,” Maze says, downing her own shot.

“Okay,” Ella says, reaching her hand up as she attempts to keep the shot down. She can already tell she's going to regret that.

  
"What about this one … Angels eat, so … do Angel’s poop?”

Maze laughs again, before sitting back and crossing her legs. Maze thinks for a moment, trying to put it into terms Ella would understand.

  
“Have you ever heard the expression ‘When in Rome do as the Romans do’?” she asks.

  
Ella, “Yeah it’s a common colloquialism created in the -”

  
“Not your stage,” Maze says interrupting her.

  
Ella nods and scrunches her mouth.

  
“When we are here, with mortals ... we do as mortals do. Demons do have to eat, but Angels don't. _If_ they eat, they eat not because they need to, but because food is delicious. Like Lucifer, he loves the taste of whisky and bourbon. Doesn't get him drunk, but he likes the taste so he drinks it."

 

Ella squints, she hadn't really realized how much he drank. Sure, at first it seemed odd to have a consultant sipping from a flask at a crime scene, but then it just became a quirk; it made Lucifer more ... Lucifer.

"He doest drink a lot, "she says to herself.

"Angels sleep not because they want to," Maze continues, "but because rest is rejuvenating and what else are they supposed to do when you humans are sleeping? Wait around? You know it just gets boring after a while.”

“But Lucifer did that thing where he tried not to sleep and … well, that didn’t go well.”

Maze laughs, “Yeah well, you get used to doing something for long enough … when you stop things take a while to recalibrate.”

"So if he really wanted to, he could go forever without sleep?" Ella says.

  
"Yeah, why do you think that whole Guardian Angel thing is effective."

  
Ella raises her eyes, "Oh! I hadn't even thought about that. Do I have one? A Guardian Angel?"

  
Maze shrugs, "again, wrong team."

  
Ella sighs and sits back. She wonders if Eric had a Guardian Angel during his deployments. She wonders if he had one now.

“What about sex?” Ella asks, turning to Maze. Maze turns to her, a sultry smile on her face.

  
“What about it?” she says as her eyes trace down Ella’s legs.

She doesn’t know what it is, maybe it is the dress or the perfume, but she’s looking at Ella in a way she hasn’t really before.

  
Ella chuckles, “Like, do you guys do it differently?”

  
Maze smiles a cheeky smile and licks her teeth seductively.

  
“Why? You want to find out?”

  
“I’m just wondering because like … I know why _we_ do it, but … why do angels? Demons?”

  
Maze shrugs, reaching for another shot “Why do most humans have sex?”

  
“To make babies?” Ella says.

  
Maze smiles, “I can tell you from experience that is _not_ the reason, but sure … let’s go with that. This is the difference between you and me,” she says downing the shot in one gulp. It burns going down.

  
Maze scrunches up her face, that last shot wasn’t so smooth.

  
“Humans need love and emotion behind sex. You guys tie every action to something meaningful. We don’t do that. Every action is inconsequential. The sun will rise and fall, the earth will rotate. We don’t fuck to make sense of the world around us or our place in it. We do it because it feels good.”

"That's not true. We can have sex without emotion."

  
Maze raises her eyebrows, "Can you now?" she asks.

"Yeah, you're literally sitting in ground zero for one night stands."

Maze smiles and fondly brings up her own memories of LUX. _Oh, she knows._

"I'm just saying," Maze says, "I've never had the urge to call someone after, but I've gotten several requests - all of them denied by the way - for phone numbers the next morning."

  
Ella shrugs, "Is it so bad people want to make a connection?"

  
Maze turns to her, her smile fading, "Why? This is all temporary. Connections are pointless."

  
Ella looks at her then down at her clipboard.

  
“So, you think all of this is meaningless?” she asks a sadness in her voice.

  
Maze sighs, “If it has meaning to you then it is meaningful. Just don’t try and place your meaning on my actions. Sometimes people do things just because. Why do you care about this stuff anyway?” she says.

  
Ella shrugs and sits back, “I don’t know. It’s like… you go your whole life believing that unicorns exist. Everyone you've ever loved believes unicorns exist, but you get older and ... you're not sure anymore. Then, everyone you've come to respect isn't sure or just doesn't believe; like the whole world just stopped caring about unicorns - or they care _way_ too much. Then one day, a freaking unicorn walks into your apartment, stares you in the eye and winks …”

  
Maze looks at her oddly, Ella just shakes her head.

  
“Wouldn’t you want to know everything you could before it disappears?”

  
“So, in this metaphor unicorns talk?”

  
Ella laughs and sits back, “Yeah, they do.”

  
\--

  
“I’m starting to get very uncomfortable,” Eric says as Lucifer paces behind him, his eyes lit. Eric turns to him, his eyes squinting.

  
“Are those like … contact lenses or something?” he asks.

  
Amenadiel looks at his watch, a quarter till midnight.

  
“Luci,” he says standing up, “we are out of time.”

  
Lucifer looks at him then back at Eric as he crosses to the front. He’s been combing his mind for anything to prove that this is Abel. Everything he has – as the detective would say – is circumstantial evidence at best. He needed proof.

  
“Alright _Lieutenant_ , if that is even your real name,” he says, “if you are who you say you are, then prove it.”

  
Eric looks at him oddly, “I already told you that you could go through my files.”

  
“No, not like that,” he says.

  
He leans closer to Eric, so their eyes connect.

  
“Tell me, lieutenant. What is it you _really_ want? Hmm? What do you truly desire?”

  
Their eyes lock, and Eric tries to look away. Lucifer grabs his face with his free hand and makes their eyes connect.

  
“Look at me!” he says, anger in his voice.

  
“Why is he looking away?” Chloe asks, turning to Amenadiel, “It’s like he knows.”

  
Amenadiel’s eyes squint.

  
“What do you truly desire?” Lucifer asks again.

  
Lucifer maintains eye contact with Eric. Eric tries but can’t seem to look away. He is lost again, but this time somewhere else; somewhere safer.

  
“I …” he begins to say, “I …”

  
“Yes?” Lucifer says, a smile across his face as he attempts to draw it out of him.

  
“I … I want to live,” he says.

  
Lucifer looks confused and stands back.

  
“What?”

  
“I never got the chance to. I still feel like I’m on borrowed time. I just … I just want to live.”

  
Eric blinks, his mind becoming clear again as he realizes where he is, and what he’s said. Suddenly, there is a sadness behind his eyes.  
He looks at a confused Lucifer and sighs. He looks up into the ceiling, an air of defeat around him before he chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

  
“You really are a bastard, you know that?” he says, placing his hands on his legs as he slowly stands up.

  
Chloe’s eyes raise in shock. _What the fuck?_

  
Amenadiel walks forward as Lucifer looks on, shocked that that actually worked.

  
“You just had to use _her_ , didn’t you?” Abel says.

  
Lucifer looks at the Lieutenant, standing tall and strong in his living room. He looks down at the cane.

  
“I … I can’t believe that actually worked,” he says, then he is knocked out of that shock, “wait, her? Who?”

  
“Ms. Lopez,” he says, “you just had to get her to bring me here. Couldn’t have been anyone else?”

  
Lucifer scrunches his eyebrows and turns to Amenadiel.

He turns back to Abel and looks him up and down, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, “I assure you Ms. Lopez is here all on her own accord.”

  
Abel looks at him confused, “So …,” he says, putting the pieces together at the same time Lucifer does. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and he backs up.

  
“Oh Abel,” he says, “It seems my intervention is coming in at the right time. Can’t have you sullying Ms. Lopez.”

  
He shakes his head, “I would never.”

  
“Yes well, we also agreed we’d never kill a messenger and look what happened with that.”

  
“He was going to spoil what I had planned,” Abel says, “I couldn’t let him-“

  
"Yes well, your little problem solving has damned the city."

  
He shakes his head, "What are you talking about?"

  
"Michael was going to destroy L.A. if we didn't find you tonight," Amenadiel says.

"What? why?" he asks.

  
"Because you killed a messenger Abel. You weren't there for Sodom or Gomorrah. You didn't see there are _always_ consequences for interfering with the celestial."

He shakes his head, "I didn't know that. I can't be punished for something I didn't know."

"Ignorance of the law doesn't excuse breaking it," Chloe says.

Abel looks at her, then at Lucifer.

"He was going to ruin my plan. I just needed to buy time for Ezria -"

Lucifer drops the cane and closes the distance between them, the fire lit and raging in his eyes again.

“Your _plan_ almost killed the detective,” he says.

“and you _killed_ my brother!”

“I assure you he deserved it,” Lucifer says, as Abel backs up.

“He was my brother!” he says.

“He was your murderer,” Lucifer says,” having a bit of Stockholm syndrome?”

“You had no right! You aren’t supposed to kill humans,” Abel says, tripping over the end of Lucifer’s chair as he walks around it only to be met with Amenadiel.

“He tried to kill the detective and me, he was hardly innocent. It was either him or her,” Lucifer says.

“Then you should have let her die!” Abel says.

Lucifer stops in his tracks. He stares at Abel, the fire in his eyes fading for a brief moment. He is overcome with the shock behind how it feels to hear that. Like he would ever do that. Like he would _ever_ put her in harm’s way on purpose. Like he would _ever_ not go to the ends of the earth to protect her. Like he would ever …

"You're the lord of hell, "Abel says, "You're supposed to punish mortals, not save them."

“I will always choose the detective,” he says softly, his eyes glazing over as he goes back to that moment that he sat at the edge of the bed weeping into his washcloth. She laid beside him so still. That feeling was so raw and real that just the thought of it threatened to take him back there. _What if she had? What if she had died?_

  
Chloe watches on, her eyes watering. She knows that look in his eyes, she's seen it before. Chloe wants to approach him and hold him, but she doesn't. Lucifer was right, she wasn't in the right mindset. She couldn't control how easily she was swayed. Either by a simple glance from the Lieutenant or the sound of Lucifer's beating heart. She was lost, and any which way the wind blew could change her direction.

Suddenly a breeze of wind blows in behind them. Amenadiel sees them first before Lucifer can feel their presence. Lucifer doesn’t turn to see who it is, he already knows.

  
“Brothers,” Amenadiel says.

  
Lucifer looks up, turning his eyes to the mirror by his bar. In its reflection he sees Michael standing with six more of his brothers, three on each side of him.

  
“The time has come, Samael,” he says, “have you found Abel?”

  
Lucifer slowly turns to him and as he turns, Abel becomes visible to the angels.

  
Michael smiles.

  
“Ah, Abel,” he says slowly walking forward, “You’ve been quite productive.”

  
Lucifer walks out the way and heads back towards the bar. Chloe watches him with every step, her heart beating irresponsibly fast in her chest. _He would always choose her?_

“I was just … I was following my orders,” he says.

  
Michael smiles, “I do not recall your orders including killing a messenger,” he says.

  
“He threatened to ruin my plan … I … I had to make sure everything went according to plan.”

  
Michael nods, almost too long it seems, as the world reels behind his eyes. He turns back to Abel.

  
“And your plan included possession of a mortal? By a fallen angel with which you struck an alliance.”

  
Abel shakes his head, “I … I was told I could enact any punishment I saw fit on Lucifer.”

  
Michael smiles, “Yes, _on_ Lucifer. Yet it seems you’ve punished everyone _but_ him.”

  
Abel shakes his head, “No, no if my plan had finished you would have seen.”

  
“There is only one plan, Abel,” Michael says, “and it is not yours to complete.”

"I only did what I thought was necessary," Abel says.

  
Lucifer slowly turns to Abel, the fire lighting in his eyes again.

  
"Was it necessary you threatened every mortal in this city? he asks.

Michael turns to him, his interest piqued. He hadn’t seen the flame in Samael’s eyes since before the fall. If it didn't remind him so much of his rebellion, he’d think it was beautiful.  
.  
“Why do you care? You've done nothing but torture us since the dawn of man, and suddenly you feel bad?”

  
“I am not the jury, Abel,” he says, “just the judge. You want something different, take it up with my Father. Good luck getting a hold of him though.”

  
Abel looks at Lucifer, his eye squinting as if looking for something. He shakes his head, “you don’t even see it to do you?”

  
Lucifer tilts his head.

  
“You spend so much time on earth with these humans that you don’t even see it anymore do you?”

  
“Your tricks won’t work on me Abel,” he says, “So save it.”

  
“You’re the lord of hell! The great punisher! You should not be spending your time running around with humans, playing mortal games.”

“I don’t think you are the purveyor of what is moral or right in this situation,” Lucifer says.

“You’re so in love with her, and you don’t even see it. You don’t even see how you’ve become weak, but everyone else can. Everyone in heaven and hell. You’re not king anymore, you’re just a homeless Angel playing house.”

Chloe turns her eyes to Lucifer, her brow furrowed and her heart racing. _What?_

The flame in Lucifer’s eyes burns brighter, and his eyelids twitch. He tries but fails to control himself.

Lucifer gently sets his glass on the bar and steps forward, the rosiness in his cheeks turning from a pale pink to a deep and horrifying red as his devil face burns itself into existence.

“Brother,” Amenadiel says, stepping forward, but he already knows it is too late.

The flame in Lucifer’s eyes burns bright, so bright it turns blue. Abel stops talking, and his eyes widen.

“Weak?” he says, through a horrifying grin on his face.

A splash of thunder and lightning blinks in the sky, and Michael turns to see a storm forming on the horizon. His eyes squint, and he turns back to see Lucifer, in full devil form -with bright blue eyes – slowly approaching Abel. Abel backs up slowly; horror in his eyes.

Michael’s hair stands on end, and he slowly reaches down to rest his hand on his blade. The Angels behind him follow suit; terror plastered on their face.

“You think I am weak?” Lucifer asks, continuing to approach Abel.

Chloe turns to Amenadiel, she can see in his eyes he is unsure of what is about to happen. Her chest rises and falls as it feels like she is hyperventilating. Everything she’s come to learn over the past week begins to hit her hard. She turns to Lucifer, she can’t see his face, but she can see the red and bumpy baldness of his head. It reminds her of the first time she saw it; the last time she saw it. And Michael, the archangel, stands with his blade at the ready. Abel - the first human to be murdered - collapses to his knees on the ground.

  
She looks out the window of Lucifer’s balcony and sees a storm quickly approaching.

“Please,” Abel says shaking his head, “Don't send me back there I beg you. I'll do anything.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that,” Lucifer says, his eyes burning with rage.

“Please don’t send me back there!” Abel repeats.

“I’ve been thinking of ways to punish you,” Lucifer says, “but I’m beginning to think they are all far too lenient.”

A deep breeze picks up and carries with it the faint sound of dogs growling. Michael turns out the window, his eyes wide. _Hellhounds?_ Hellhounds only retrieve souls that have wandered from hell. What are they doing here?

"Hell? No, where you are going no one will hear your screams."

A strong breeze picks up and on it ride the loud growling of hellhounds. The storm is close now, almost touching the balcony of his penthouse.

"Do you hear that?" Lucifer asks, a horrifying grin on his face and deep-seated anger in his eyes. "Allow me to show you just how _weak_ I am."

He turns his head halfway to face Chloe. She can see his face clearer now, and it is precisely how she remembers it; red, bumpy and a long shot away from the Lucifer she knows.

“Detective,” he says, not giving her the chance to respond, “hold your breath.”

She doesn’t have to follow his directions as she realizes she’d been holding her breath already.

Suddenly, the room is filled with black dogs. Six or seven of them run about the living room before honing in on Abel.

They catch his scent and begin attacking him.

  
He screams in pain as they begin to rip him apart. Lucifer watches on, the flames still lit in his eyes and a pleased smile on his face.

Michael stares on in horror. His face still and unmoving but his eyes betraying his real feelings.

The sound of Abel’s screams mixes with the sound of his clothing ripping and his flesh being torn apart. The hellhounds joyfully growl and bark.

  
Chloe can’t see what is happening - thankfully - as the sofa blocks her view, but the sounds are enough to paint a picture, and she is horrified. She slowly backs up, bumping into one of the stools by the bar. She exhales, startled by its sound.

One of the dogs catches her scent and turns to her with a growl. Lucifer’s eyes snap to him. The dog leaps away from Abel and runs straight to Chloe. Before he can reach, however, Lucifer is in front of her, his wings spread wide. He stares down at the dog, his eyes wide and filled with rage. The dog looks up at him and whimpers before running back to the Abel with his tail between his legs.

Lucifer turns slightly to her to make sure she is okay. She looks up at him, shock on her face. Then, her eyes scan down to his wings. She reaches out and gently places a shaky hand on them. He turns back to the sight before him, now unable to see the action but resolute on not leaving her side. She scans the back of his head, staring at the bald and red skin of his skull.

  
\--

  
Downstairs Ella and Maze are still talking, mostly Ella. She is clearly very drunk and is clearly a very sad drunk.

“I just don’t get it,” she says, her body laid flat out across the leather seats, “One moment we were smiling and exchanging little looks and the next he was … he was gone.”

Maze tosses back the final shot on the table then leans back into a comfortable position.

“Men are shit,” she says,” well …humans in general. Too many emotions running wild.”

Ella sits up partially and looks at Maze. Maze turns to her before her eyes cast downwards to see the precarious position Ella is in; on her back, her legs crossed over one another in a manner that gives her a slight peek at her smooth thighs under her dress.

  
“Right?” Ella says, “Like, I put on a dress for him. I mean, not for him but like … you know what, yeah. I put on this fancy ass dress for him. I wore my fancy ass expensive perfume-“

  
“It smells so good,” Maze says, her neck heating up.

  
“I put on these painful ass heels… and for what? So, I could spend the night in a private booth getting drunk and asking about Angels and Demons instead of getting laid?”

  
Maze nods and looks annoyed, “You know, that last part kind of hurt,” she says.

  
Ella sits up entirely and places a hand on Maze’s shoulder, “No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she says.

  
“You know what I meant, right?”

Maze sighs, “yeah, sure.”

The bartender comes in with another plate of shot and Maze shakes her head.

“We’re done here,” she says.

He pauses, then nods as he reaches down to grab the empty tray of drinks to take with him. Maze reaches up and grabs one of the shots off the tray.

  
“Just one more,” she says as she downs it and places it back on his tray.

He smiles and leaves.

  
Maze turns back to Ella who has collapsed back on the chair.

  
“I gotta pee,” she says.

  
Ella sits up and looks at her.

  
“You good till I get back?” she asks.

  
Ella collapses back on the chair. Maze taps her on the knees, and stands up, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She exits the private booth, and Ella turns her head to the pulled curtain. She sighs.

She sits up halfway and stares at the curtain, the gears in her drunken mind turning.

“I’m going to tell him he’s an asshole,” she says as she sits up.

The world spins around her momentarily, but she catches herself before standing up and stumbling out into the busy LUX upper balcony.

\--

Lucifer remains standing in front of Chloe as the growling subsides and the night sky begins to clear again. The hellhounds slowly dissipate into thin air as the thunder and lightning subsides.

Lucifer lowers his wings and straightens his suit before walking calmly back behind his sofa.

  
Chloe crosses her arms in front of her, her mind reeling with thoughts. Thoughts about him and her and ... did he really love her? or was that just part of Abel's manipulation?

  
Lucifer stares down at the spot where Abel was. In his place, there is nothing left behind. Not a drop of blood or a scrap of cloth. It’s like no one was even there. Lucifer looks back up to see Michael staring on in horror.

"Brother, your face," he says.

Lucifer, "You can thank Father for that," he says crossing back to his bar, "He's turned me into quite the monster."

Michael shakes his head.

“Father doesn’t make monsters,” he says.

Lucifer scoffs and catches a glimpse of himself in the bar mirror.

  
He cautions a glance towards Chloe. She looks elsewhere, her mind deep in thought. He drops his eyes solemnly down. Maybe Abel was right? Maybe he was fooling himself to be up here with humans.

“So, which circle of Hell did you send him to this time?” Michael asks.

Lucifer turns back to him, a look on his face to suggest he didn't know why Michael was asking. He doled out the punishments, that was the deal.

“So, I have something to report,” he continues.

Lucifer looks down at the spot where Abel was, then back up to Michael.

“I didn’t send him to Hell brother,” he says.

Michael scrunches his eyes, “What?”

“I punished him in a manner fitting of his crimes.”

Michael shakes his head and steps forward.

“What did you do Samael?”

Lucifer turns his eyes away, then back to Michael – the blue flames still lit, seemingly permanent.

  
"Do you truly care to know?" he asks.

Michael doesn't say anything, he just locks his eyes into Lucifer's. Lucifer sighs.

“Very well ... I tore his soul into pieces,” he says first, “and then I had those pieces scattered across the universe.”

Michael’s eyes widen. _How… How is that possible_?

“He is both alive and dead; whole and incomplete.”

He drops his eyes down again, “He is everywhere and nowhere, but in every instance of his damned existence he is alone; where he cannot harm another being. Living … or dead. ”

Michael shakes his head, “Samael that’s … that’s _impossible_.”

Lucifer shrugs, “You asked me what I did brother, and I told you.”

Amenadiel shakes his head, his eyes wide trying to process what he just heard. He shakes his head .... _How?_

  
Michael turns to the angels behind him, who look on with confusion and horror. He nods to them.

“Go and tell the others to stand down,” he says. They turn to him and nod before looking back at Lucifer. They spread their wings and leave willingly with no hesitation.

Michael turns back to Lucifer.

“I suppose you saved the mortals in this city from the wrath of God.”

Lucifer nods, “and in their ignorance, they will be none the wiser. As per usual.”

Michael nods, an awkwardness between them.

“I’ve made an example of him,” Lucifer says, “we shouldn’t have an issue with anyone killing more messengers.”

Michael nods, “This wasn't just about the messenger, was it?” he asks.

Lucifer looks at him. He says nothing but Michael can see it in his eyes. He casually glances at Chloe then back to Lucifer.

“Well,” he says, “I believe I have no more reason to be here.”

“Yes, for once it seems we are in agreeance,” Lucifer says.

Michael nods and turns back to the balcony. It reminds him so much of the observatory. A sadness comes over him. He turns to Lucifer, wanting to say something but he doesn’t.

“I would say it was a pleasure but … it wasn’t,” Lucifer says, noticing his hesitation.

Michael chuckles.

“Same old Samael.”

He turns and heads to the balcony.

“Michael,” Lucifer says.

Michael stops and turns back to Lucifer.

“Why did you send a messenger to the detective?”

Michael’s eyes drift down, and he closes them as if it were something he didn’t want to remember.

“I … I wanted to warn Ezria about Abel’s plan,” he says.

Lucifer shakes his head, confusion behind his blue flame eyes.

“You knew that he had chosen the detective as his vessel? Lucifer asks, his eyes squinting.

  
Michael nods, “I had suspected.”

“You knew, and you did nothing to warn me?” he says, the rage building further behind his eyes.

Michael meets his eyes, a look of regret and confusion within them.

  
“I fear my interference may have gotten our messenger killed.”

Lucifer nods, “Yes, it did. And it damn near got the Detective and the entire city killed in the process.”

Michael smiles a reluctant smile before it fades.

“Yes,” he says nodding before turning back to Lucifer, his expression blank, “I will not make that mistake again. I will not interfere any further with Father’s plan.”

Lucifer’s eyes go wide as Michael turns and exits. _Father’s plan? What is his plan?_

_Was his plan to put the lives of humans in the city in danger? To manipulate his own sons? To place the detective in harm's way?_

He turns and approaches the bar, a chaos brewing just behind his eyes.

He pours himself a drink and catches a glance of himself in the mirror. _Maybe it’s about time he paid Father a visit._

Suddenly the elevator dings and he turns to see a drunk Ella stumbling out. 

“Ella?” Chloe says, approaching Ella and steadying her by holding her shoulders tightly. She turns to see Lucifer slipping into his bedroom.

Amenadiel approaches them.

Ella looks around to see the penthouse empty except for Chloe and Amenadiel. She doesn’t see the Lieutenant.

“Where’s Eric?” she barely manages to get out as she slurs her words.

  
Chloe looks at Amenadiel, her mouth wide and not knowing what to say.

“Uh, he … he had to go. He wasn’t feeling like himself and said he just needed some time to uhm… think.”

“Think?” she says.

“Uh huh,” Chloe says.

Ella thinks about it for a moment.

“He didn’t even tell me goodbye,” she says sadly.

Chloe turns to Amenadiel, and he nods.

“Okay, how about I give you a ride home?” he asks.

The elevator dings behind them and Maze steps out. They look at her, and she scrunches her face as if she had been caught.

“Sorry!” she says stepping out into the penthouse, “I stepped out to pee and she just … slipped out from right under me.”

Maze approaches Ella and wraps her arms around her shoulders.

“I think I should take her home,” she says.

Amenadiel and Chloe nod.

Amenadiel turns to Chloe then looks back into the bedroom.

“Go,” Chloe says.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

She nods, “I’ll be fine,” she says smiling.

He smiles back at her, “it’s not you that I am worried about.”

She turns her head back into the darkness of Lucifer’s bedroom before turning to see Amenadiel step inside the elevator with Maze and Ella.

“He didn’t say goodbye,” Ella says to Maze the sadness still in her voice.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” she says, as Amenadiel presses the button to close the elevator doors.

“I told you men were assholes.”

The elevator doors close, leaving Chloe alone. She sighs and slowly turns to look into Lucifer’s bedroom. She can’t see him, but she knows he is there, just beyond the bedroom wall. She closes her eyes and holds them tightly, trying to get the sounds of growling dogs out of her head.

Shaking it off, she slowly approaches the steps to his bedroom, her arms crossed.

 

\--

 

On a platform surrounded by stars, God stands; his eyes closed and in deep thought.

  
Michael slowly lowers himself by his wings until his feet touch the platform and his wings collapse.

  
“Abel has been punished,” he says.

  
God slowly opens his eyes, turns to him and nods.

  
“I know,” he says.

  
Michael slowly steps forward, “Then you know what Samael claims to have done.”

  
God nods and turns back to the stars.

  
Michael still searching for answers, shakes his head, “Father … he shouldn’t be able to do that. He is just an angel, and his domain is hell. He shouldn’t be able to –“

  
“Yet, he has, Michael,” he says, slowly turning around,” Are you frightened by that?”

  
He squints his eyes, “Why aren’t you? Samael has gotten stronger. How long until he storms the gates? How long until the Final war?”

  
God smiles and approaches Michael, resting his hand on his shoulder.

  
“All is going according to plan Michael, or do you falter in your faith again?”

  
Michael inhales and shakes his head, “No Father. I do not falter.”

  
God smiles and turns back to the empty expanse before him.

  
“Then, have no fear.”

  
“Father, my task is to protect the city and its occupants. Should I not worry Samael has become too strong? Should I not consider every option.”

  
God nods.

  
“This is why you are my sword Michael, but a forward march won’t be necessary. Not yet. Let us not burden our soldiers with needless guard duty.”

  
Michael wants to say something, but it is clear God has made up his mind. He sighs.

  
“As you wish father.”

  
He turns to leave.

  
“Michael,” God says.

  
Michael turns to him, defeated.

  
“Yes, Father?”

  
“We may not need to gather the army, but perhaps it’s time you gathered your brothers and sisters so we might have a talk about Samael.”

  
Michael nods, “Okay, who should I call for?”

  
God turns to him, the galaxy swirling behind his eyes.

  
“All of them,” he says.

 


	18. No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer have a conversation about where they stand. Maze and Ella find themselves in a sticky situation. Amenadiel gets summoned to the Silver City, and Dan spends the night on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and leaving comments! This is the last chapter in part 1 of my series. The next one will be much longer and more case fic oriented as this part was mostly kind of tying up loose ends from Season 3 and getting the characters to a point where I could REALLY tell the story I wanted. I wanted to save the ending as kind of a mysterious …did they didn’t they, but then I remembered I promised smut in this part. It was really hard for me to write because I wanted to strike a balance between tasteful and smutty, but it became apparent very quickly there was no dimmer switch; it’s just off or on. So … we went full smut on this one. A deal is a deal ;} Fair warning. I’m going to go hide in a corner now.

Chloe ascends the two steps into Lucifer’s bedroom and cautiously turns to see his silhouette sitting in the chair by his bedroom window; a drink in his hand.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Detective,” he says, solemnly.

She brushes a strand of loose hair behind her ear, then back to crossing her arms in front of her body; letting her shoulders relax.

“You didn’t scare me,” she says, stepping closer; standing by his bed.

He turns his gaze to her. She can’t see his face in the darkness of the room, but she can see his piercing blue eyes – still lit aflame. Even through the rage, she can see his sadness.  _The devil shouldn’t be so sad._

“Okay, maybe a little,” she says, “But I’m fine. You did what you had to do.”

“He almost killed you, Detective,” Lucifer says as if trying to state his case again; as if trying to excuse his anger.

“I know,” she says, stepping forward slightly, “ _trust me_ , I know.”

He sighs and turns his face back to the window. Chloe shifts uncomfortably on her feet. There are so many questions she wants to ask him, but only one truly stands out in her mind.

“Is it true?” she asks.

He turns his glance back to her, the blue flame in his eyes still bright.

“Is what true, Detective?” he says curiously.

“Do you …, do you love me?”

Lucifer pauses, his eyes searching for an answer. He doesn’t have to search far, she can tell. He turns his gaze away from her. He knows he can’t lie to her. He knows she won’t take silence as an answer. He knows she won’t settle for this unspoken but apparent attraction between them. But not saying it, not vocalizing this feeling in his chest will make it less real; less painful when she runs.  _Would she run?_

Maybe it was too late for all that. Chloe had seen his face. He had been inside of her, if only for a moment. She had witnessed his uncontrolled anger, and yet she was still here, standing in his bedroom. She was still here asking him a question that maybe he had no recourse but to answer. He could never lie to her, and he wouldn’t start now.

“Yes,” he says, a lump in his throat threatening to reduce the smoothness of that word.

She shifts on her feet, her breath threatening to make her hyperventilate.

“Say it,” she asks, needing to hear the words.

He turns his eyes back to her, a blue flame still lit. There is silence there. He wants to say it, but he is afraid of what it means; of what will happen, of what she will do.

“Please … say it,” she begs, the hurt in her voice given life as tears threaten to blur her vision.

There is a thick silence there. Lucifer stares into her glassy eyes. He can't bare to see her cry because of him again, but the pain … he doesn’t think he could recover from this pain.

He had fallen from heaven, he had burned on the way down, and he had his lungs filled with water. Yet the pain of falling from Heaven wasn’t near close enough to match the pain of falling for her; of watching her be with Cain, of watching her  _hate_  him, of knowing she couldn’t possibly love him as he wants her to.

Still, he owed her this, after everything she had been through, - everything he put her through -  _he owed her this_. He closes his eyes tightly.

“I ... I love you,” he says, opening his eyes again. She stares at him, her breath caught in her chest. There is so much truth behind his flaming eyes that it almost hurts to look. As if she were staring directly into the molten core of who he was. He was flawed and selfish, but there she could see he was just as lost as she was. And he loves her. He had said it with his own lips. _He loves her_. He turns his face away from hers.

She exhales. It feels like she had been holding her breath forever. The tears fall freely now. All she ever wanted from him, was to hear those words. She slowly walks towards him, but then stops as he turns back to her. She can see part of his face now, illuminated by a dull moonlight coming from the window. His devil face was still there; red, angry, and jagged.

He sees the look in her eyes, and the blue flame in them dulls to a low red glow.

“But how could you love me?” he asks, the hurt in his voice.

She shakes her head, “Lucifer,” she says softly.

“I’ve done nothing but paraded my sexual exploits in front of you,” he says.

“If I lived for an eternity I’d probably have many sexual partners too,” she says, slowly walking closer.

“And how many times have I hurt you?” he asks.

“You were hurting too,” she says, stepping closer.

She slowly closes the distance between them, standing in front of him. He looks up at her cautiously.  _Why isn't she running?_

“I’m the devil, Chloe,” he says as if that fact weren't apparent; as if the trip to the Silver City had clouded her judgment.

“Lucifer,” she says softly, as she reaches up with zero hesitation and runs her soft hand across the jaggedness of his face, “Stop trying to find reasons you shouldn’t be loved and just accept the fact that  _you are_.”

He turns away from her, this feeling is too raw; too real. She looks over to see a lamp on a nearby table. She turns to him again, he still looks away from her.  
She reaches over to cut the light on, but he stops her.

"Detective," he says, fear in his words.

"It's okay," she says. She flips the light switch, flooding his bedroom with a dim light. It leaves him no room to hide, and her no place to pretend he is anyone other than who he is.

She turns her head to him cautiously, not sure if she wants to see, but sure she _has_  to.

Lucifer turns away from her, afraid. She can still make out the details of his face and the gentleness of his eyes; even as they are still lit aflame. His face is just like how she remembered, but something is different about this time. Maybe it is because his words still float through her head like a song. Perhaps it is because he had seen what he was capable of, but couldn't shake him saying he would always choose her. Maybe it is because he had confessed that he loves her and despite everything telling her she shouldn’t … she loves him too.

She reaches her hand out and cups the side of his face. He turns to her; he can see the intrigue in her eyes.  _Why isn’t she running afraid?_

She runs her thumb over his steep cheekbone, a love in her eyes that he doesn’t understand; but he wants to. He wants to stay in this moment; devil face be damned. He closes his eyes and turns his face into her cheek; finally letting himself go.

“Does it hurt?” she asks.

“It’s my face, Darling,” he says with a soft smile, “This I who I am.”

She shakes her head, “No, it’s not.”

She slowly climbs on top of him, straddling his lap. He opens his eyes and looks up at her, shocked.

She stares into his eyes as the fire inside them begins to dull. It looks as though she is looking for answers, but she is all out of questions. Everything she had wanted to know she now knows.

She slowly leans down and plants a soft kiss on his lips. He reciprocates cautiously, and slowly, his face starts to soften. The red cools to a pink hue, and his black, perfectly coifed hair pops into sight. She leans up to see the look of shock on his face like he hadn’t expected her to stay – yet alone kiss him. She smiles and places her hand on his face again, this time he turns his face into it willingly, closing his eyes.

She leans into him, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her.

They sit in silence for a moment. Neither knowing what to say.

“What happens now?” she says finally.

“Quite frankly, Darling,” he says, “this is new for me too.”

\--

Maze and Ella stumble into Ella’s apartment. Maze shuts the door behind them as Ella walks into her living room and collapses on the couch. Her knees bend over the arm of the sofa, and her dress rides up slightly. She turns her head to the TV and groans. She is way too drunk. She sits up abruptly to see Maze setting her clutch and Ella’s clipboard on Ella’s counter. Maze then takes one of her heels off, sighing at the relief of no longer wearing heels.

Suddenly Ella pops up.

“I have to pee,” she says, trying hard to climb off the couch without falling. She stumbles onto the ground but collects herself.

“You alright?” Maze says, looking at her oddly.

“Pfft,” she says, “I’m awesome,” she says as she stumbles down the hall into her bathroom.

Maze takes off her other heel and tosses it to the side, “And you humans insist you don’t like torture," she says.

Maze walks into the living room and sits on the couch, sighing in relief at the comfort as she collapses into the cushions. She rests her head back on the couch and stares out into the ceiling. She sits there, staring at the ceiling with her mind getting lost in a string of thoughts. Suddenly she realizes she isn’t hearing Ella.

“Ella?” she asks, sitting up,” Did you get stuck?”

The toilet flushes and the sink runs before Ella steps out, suddenly standing straight.

“Man, when you break the seal you really break the seal,” she says.

Maze raises an eyebrow, “You feel better now?”

“A little,” she says, “I still shouldn't be driving anywhere but … I think I’m good.”

Maze laughs, “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow,” she says.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Ella says, grabbing her clipboard on the way to the couch.

“Do you mind?” she asks.

Maze smiles, “Might as well,” she says, adjusting herself in her seat.

Ella plops down on the chair next to her, sending a poof of her perfume in Maze's direction. She inhales it deeply. _Fuck, she smells good_. Maze turns to her, a look in her eyes that she has to fight back.

Ella flips through the clipboard. Most of them were answered, but some … some were a little harder to ask.

How could she ask any of these to Lucifer? She blushes thinking about it. He would give her that look that he always does like she’s an innocent, uncorrupted woman. She used to steal cars for  _fuck's_  sake. She sighs.

“You going to ask me a question, or should I go home now?” Maze says, crossing her legs and leaning her head back.

“Well,” she says, sitting herself up straight in the seat and leaning on the back of her sofa to stabilize herself, “I do have a few questions but …”

Her eyes drift off.

Maze tilts her head curiously, “but what?”

“They are a little ….” She says, trailing off again.

Maze groans and sits up.

“Get it out, Lopez.”

“They are a bit … sexual,” she says, her eyes cautiously turning to Maze.

Maze’s face turns from annoyed, to intrigued and then sinfully delighted.

“Oh, Ella,” she says, a lustful tone behind her voice, “you should have led with those.”

“Are you sure? I had some questions for Lucifer, but the more I look at them … the more I’m embarrassed to ask,” she says.

“Oh please,” Maze says, sitting back, “We’ve seen it all. I’ve seen it all. I’ve  _done_  it all.”

Maze grins fondly, staring off into the distance and remembering her long love life. She licks her lips and sits back then turns to Ella, who watches her intently. She coughs and adjusts herself in her chair.

  
“What you got?” she asks.

Ella looks down at her clipboard and flips through a few pages.

“Uh,” she says, trying to pick a question. Once she finds a question, she pauses and looks up at Maze who watches her, waiting to see what this human will come up with next.

“Okay so like … humans have sex to procreate, so … what happens when angels have sex?”

Maze frowns, “This is your question?” she asks.

“We’ve already had the sex talk,” Maze says annoyed, “You don’t have anything else good in there? Maybe something about buttplugs or hot wax play? I can tell you both of those I am into.”

“No,” Ella says, getting defensive, “I mean like, do angels have babies? Or like do demons have babies? What is that like?”  
Maze sighs and rests her head on her hand. She chuckles to herself.

“Demons have children, yes. It’s the main way we multiply. You know, as much as demons look down on humans, we are really very similar.”

Ella shakes her head, “What do you mean?”

“Demons and humans are pretty much the same thing. The only difference is that humans have a soul. It’s what gives you that special flavor. But all our parts are the same. If they weren't, I'd have to go to Hell every time I needed to cum, could you imagine that?”

Ella shakes her head, "No, no, I can honestly say I cannot."

Maze laughs and turns her eyes back to the clipboard.

“Uh … okay, so … What about angels? Do angels have babies?” Ella says.

“Not really. All angels in existence are siblings, so most don’t really share an interest in each other,” she says.

“Most?” Ella asks curiously, “There’s such thing as Angel incest?”

Maze laughs, “Let’s just say that the Greek’s got some of their mythology right, just different people. Or angels, rather.”

“Ew,” she says, her face scrunched up.

Maze nods, “Yeah … even I have boundaries.”

“So … Angels and humans? Can they like … make an angel baby?” Ella asks.

Maze raises her eyebrows. Why does Ella want to know this so badly?

“Uh … no,” she says, a suspicious look in her eyes, “Back when humans were first made, maybe. But not now. Humans are so genetically different and varied; it’s impossible.”

Ella frowns.

“So, Lucifer will never have babies unless he has sex with a demon?” she asks.

Maze chuckles, “He’s not interested in his own offspring. Daddy issues and what not,” she says.

Ella’s eyes cast downward, deep in thought before she turns back to Maze, “So that whole story about Lucifer’s kid and the anti-christ and all that isn’t real?”

“I think … sometimes the story we tell ourselves is way more interesting than the truth,” she says.

Ella leans back in her chair.

“Wow,” she says, “that must suck. I can’t imagine not wanting to have kids.”

Maze laughs. Ella turns to her, “Do you have kids?”

Maze looks at her, almost offended.

“Hell no,” she says. She shudders at the thought.

“Could you imagine? My spawn running around, biting things and screaming.”

“Yeah, but like, you could teach them things. Like, love and life and art and –“

“How to properly sharpen a double-sided blade without cutting yourself,” she says, her eye squinting. Maybe this whole spawn thing wouldn’t be _so_ bad.

“Yeah,” Ella says, trailing off. She would say she wasn’t sure if Maze was joking but … it’s Maze.

“See? Doesn’t Lucifer ever think about like … having a little him running around?”

Maze’s smile fades, she can see the sadness in Ella’s eyes. That’s one thing that humans have, that innate desire to procreate. It’s odd.

“I think it’s different for us,” she says, “you know, we are immortal. We live – for the most part – for infinity. Humans are fragile and … mortal. Everything here is temporary, and so it makes more sense you think about the continuance of yourself in your offspring. We just … we have different desires.”

Ella nods and stares off towards the wall in front of her, her mind racing.

Maze sits back, her mind thinking too.

“Besides, Lucifer is immortal, remember? For him to have a kid he’d have to hook up with one of his sisters, impregnate a demon or somehow become mortal and that’s  _not_  happening,” she says laughing.

“Yeah,” Ella says, sadly, “I suppose you’re right.”

Ella relaxes, draping her arm like a dead person over the edge of the couch.

Maze turns to her. She doesn’t like sad Ella.

“I just … I  _really_  liked him,” Ella says softly, pure sadness behind her words. Maze pauses and turns to her.

Ella turns to Maze, sadness in her eyes.

“Am I stupid?” she asks, looking up at her.

Ella shakes her head, reaching into the pockets attached to her dress and pulling out her phone.

“You know what, I’m just going to text him,” she says.

Suddenly, Maze launches forward grabs the phone out of Ella’s hand before pulling back and laying against the other end of the couch, her hands outstretched away from Ella; just in case she tries to fight for her phone.

“Not on my watch,” she says.

She looks to see Ella’s mouth wide open, a look of shock. Her eyes staring directly at her legs. Suddenly, Ella turns away with a smile on her face and a giggle in her throat.

“ _Oh My God_ ,” she says, “you’re not wearing underwear.”

Maze looks down to see her tight dress has been hiked up, resulting in her flashing Ella. She grins and sits up, slowly and methodically pulling her skirt down. She then sits up straight and crosses her legs.

“That’s a freebie,” Maze says, “the next show you’ll have to pay for.”

  
She tucks Ella’s phone into the seat cushion behind her while Ella is looking away.

Ella turns to her, their eyes cautiously meeting. She can see the seriousness behind Maze’s eyes. A thick and charged tension hovers between them.

Maze lets go a deep smile then turns to pull the clipboard from Ella’s lap.

“What else you got?” she says, handing the clipboard to Ella. Ella cautiously takes it, her eyes darting back and forth from Maze’s eyes to the clipboard.

The thought of them together hadn’t even crossed her mind or ever interested her before tonight,  _so why was it all she could think about now?_

\--

Amenadiel leans against the railing at the edge of the pier. The ocean waves crash against the wooden beams below and calm him.

He had come to close to watching another city falter, and though he understood a crime needs to be punished, he couldn’t help but think about how easy it would have been for his brothers to kill so many innocent people.

If he had managed to stop Lucifer from killing Cain, this would have never happened. Still, how could heaven be so quick to kill so many mortals? When he had lived in the Silver City, he thought humans were all … a waste of space too, but living here among them …

He shakes his head. He doesn’t think he would ever be able to do something like that. Especially when he’s come to be fond of so many of them.

He sighs. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see a young man, his eyes whited over, approaching him. Another messenger.  
He looks him up and down. He hadn’t expected a messenger to be sent for him.

“Speak,” he says forcefully. The man looks at him, through those hazy white eyes.

“Your presence has been requested in the Silver City.”

Amenadiel looks at him oddly. He is being summoned to the Silver City? Why? Perhaps it has something to do with what Lucifer did, or what he didn’t do to stop Lucifer. Amenadiel sighs and walks behind the messenger, facing the city.

Would he have the courage to tell them they were wrong about humans? He spreads his wings.

“Go,” he says forcefully before launching himself in the sky and disappearing into the heavens.

The young man’s eyes pop back to reveal a deep brown. He looks around for a moment, suddenly confused about where he is.

“Wha…what?” he says, turning around to the city. He sighs a heavy sigh, a sudden sadness coming over him.

“I did it again,” he says solemnly to himself, before slowly walking back down to the entrance of the pier.

\--

Ella jots down notes in her clipboard while Maze goes through Ella’s cabinets. She finds a bottle of wine and smiles.

“Huh, that makes so much sense because Lucifer definitely has a fetish for -” Ella says, turning to see Maze with a wine bottle in her hand.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Maze asks.

Ella waves her off, “I couldn’t drink another drop. I’m so regretting that fifth shot.”

“Hey, you can count and say no to a drink. I think we’re making progress.”

Ella smiles and turns back to her clipboard, leafing through the questions.

“So, God doesn’t care about sex stuff? Like, at all?” she asks to clarify.

“Again, wrong team,” Maze says, closing the cabinet, “but if I had to guess no. He doesn’t. As long as it is consensual what you do with your parts is your business.”

Maze pulls a glass off the counter and walks back to her seat, plopping down next to Ella. Ella’s eyes cautiously trail up her legs slowly up to watch Maze pouring a glass for herself. She sets the bottle down on the table and sits back. She turns to Ella.

“What’s next?” she asks, “I much prefer these questions. These are far more interesting.”

Ella blushes and turns back to her clipboard. Maybe she shouldn’t push it. Or perhaps she should? A few hours ago, she was flirting with Eric, and now she was here, wondering how a demon tastes.

She shakes her head;  _how did this happen?_

Her mind runs onto Eric again. She couldn’t be too upset with him, it was clear he was going through something but still … how could he just leave like that? Did he not think she would understand? Was he too embarrassed?

Maze waves her hand in front of Ella’s eyes, bringing her back to the moment.

“Sorry,” she says, turning back to her clipboard, “I was just … I was thinking about Eric.”

Maze sighs and takes a sip, “See, this is why I don’t do relationships. Too many… feelings.”

Ella turns to her and tilts her head curiously.

“That’s a good question,” she says.

Maze adjusts herself in her seat happily.  _Finally_ , back to sex stuff.

“Have you ever been in love?” Ella asks.

Maze’s face falls, then suddenly she’s no longer interested in the conversation. She sets her glass down on the table.

“I think it’s time for me to go. You should probably get some sleep,” Maze says, standing up and going back to her shoes.

Ella looks confused and turns to her, “is it not something you want to talk about?” she asks, too inebriated to catch the hint.

“No,” Maze says flatly, “It’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Sorry,” she says, “I tend to do that. I just … I wanted to know more about you.”

Maze turns to her, her face scrunched up, “Why?”

Ella shrugs and sits back in her chair, “I don’t know … you’re cool, and as much as you pretend like you aren’t, you’re nice and … I just want to know more about you. You’re interesting.”

Maze looks at her oddly then groans and turns her head upward.  _Fucking humans._

“Fine,” she says reluctantly, a tinge of happiness behind her words.

She knocks her heels off again and slowly walks back to the couch. She sits back down next to Ella and grabs her glass of wine before chugging it all in one gulp. She sets it back down on the table and turns back to Ella, who looks at her curiously, waiting for her to say something.

It was odd, this feeling. She never really had someone ... care. Well, except Linda. But this was different from Linda, Ella wanted to know just to know ... not to fix her. Maze tilts her head curiously, and the thought occurs to her that Ella doesn't think Maze is broken.

"Huh," Maze says at this realization.

"What?" Ella says.

"Nothing," she replies, "Uhm ... right. Well. I guess the answer is yes. You could say I was in love ... once."

“What happened?” Ella asks.

“I … I don’t know?” she says, “I guess I ruined it. I … ran away.”

  
Ella sits back and smiles.

“Yeah, that happens.”

Maze turns to her. Ella looks at her grinning.

“That’s a thing?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Ella says, sitting back up.

“My first love was in High School; a boy named Matthew Hamilton. He was the cutest guy in our class, and he asked me out during lunch period in front of all my friends,” Ella says, reminiscing with a smile in her eyes.

“We dated for a few months, and then he asked me to prom our senior year. The theme was musicals, and we went as Sandy and Danny from grease,” she continues, chuckling.

Maze reaches over and pours another glass of wine for herself.

Ella’s eyes naturally watch the wine as it pours into the bottle.

“What made you run away?” Maze asks.

Ella’s smile turns into a frown.

“It wasn’t me who ran that time, “she says.

Maze pauses and turns to her. Ella shakes her head, suddenly remembering why she doesn’t tell this story.

“He uh … ,” she says, her facing cringing like it is a hard story to remember, let alone explain.

“He fucked me in the back of his car, dropped me off at my parent’s home and that was it. No phone calls, not even a note in my locker. He completely ignored me in school.”

Maze’s face drops, and she squints her eyes, “Where does he live? I’ll  _break_  his arms.”

Ella laughs and sits back.

“I’m serious,” Maze says, anger on her face.

Ella turns to her, a smile in her eyes. Her smile slowly fades again, and she stares at Maze.

“It was my first time,” she says.

Maze sets the bottle down on the table with so much force a bit drops of wine splash out of the top.

“Honestly, Lopez, I have a bag full of knives, and it’s been too long since I last used them.”

Ella smiles widely and sits back up.

“It was my first time, but it was also his. He later came out as gay, which … in hindsight, I should have seen. He knew way too much about Grease.”

She turns to Maze.

“That doesn’t make what he did right but … people go through things, and sometimes they hurt people along the way. In that story, he’s the bad guy, but I’m sure there are many stories in which he is the good guy. I mean, I’m no saint either. Who am I to judge?”

“Oh, come on. You’re like the peppiest human I know, and you wear that cross necklace like a badge of honor. Which, by the way, super offensive to me,” Maze says.

Ella smiles widely and laughs. Then a thought occurs to her.

“Shouldn’t you be like … repelled by my necklace or something?”

Maze chuckles, “No. That’s an old wives’ tale. Back in the day, believers were more aware of our presence and knew how to send us back. Problem was, if we were here on earth, it was for a reason and being found out and sent back to hell was a bad thing. So, we learned to avoid the crosses. Now, not so much. Most of you humans wear those things, but you don’t actually believe.”

“I believe,” Ella says, before turning her head and lowering her voice, “I just … I don’t know what exactly, I believe anymore.”

“Now the clipboard makes more sense,” Maze says.

Ella smiles and sighs. What were they talking about?  _Oh, right._

“The point is. For a lot of relationships after that, I ran. I didn’t want to get hurt again, so … I hurt them first. It’s … it’s something we all do at some point in our lives, but we learn from it, hopefully.”

Ella turns to Maze with a faint smile.

“So, you ran. That’s okay. Next time you won’t.”

Maze scoffs, “Next time.”

Ella smiles and lays a hand on her thigh,” There is always a next time,” she says.

“It doesn’t get easier, obviously but … bad shit happens to everyone. Sometimes we think … how the _fuck_  are we going to get through this, but … sometimes it’s not about luck. It’s about resilience.”

Maze grabs her wine, not thoroughly convinced, but trying to make a mental note to hunt down and find a Matthew Hamilton. Ella removes her hand and sits back.

“Anyway, love will find us both again, and next time, we will be prepared.”

Maze takes a sip of her wine and relaxes back onto the couch.

“What about you?” Ella says.

Maze raises her eyebrows, “Me?”

“Yeah, what was your first time like? Like ... sexually?”

Maze chuckles, “I don’t remember my first time,” she says.

“What? How come?”

Maze shrugs, "It was so long ago, I don't even really remember it."

Maze brings the glass of wine to her mouth and turns to see Ella looking at her oddly.

"What?" she asks.

Ella squints her eyes, "I don't believe you."

Maze laughs, "What? why not?"

"Because it's your first time! Everyone remembers their first time, I don't care how long it's been."

Maze shrugs, "I don't know what to tell you. I guess it wasn't that good. I’ve had many, many …  _many_  partners since then,” she says, a lust beginning to glaze over her eyes.

Ella sighs, "Okay. So ... how many partners have you had?"

Maze chuckles loudly, "Ella, I don't count them. Besides, the number is inconsequential, demons can't count when we die. You know, nonexistence and such."

“Doesn’t that ever bother you?” Ella asks.

“What? My number?,” she shakes her head no and takes another sip of her wine, “It's not about the number, it's about the experience. Every person is a little different. The way I see it ... it’s enjoying the time I have while I have it.”

“No, I mean, doesn't the idea of not existing bother you? I mean, at least we get heaven or hell, but you get ... nothing."

Maze pauses, no one has ever asked her that question either. She lowers her eyes to her drink as if in deep thought.

“I guess, I never really thought about it,” she says, “it’s just one of those inconvenient truths. I can’t do anything about it, so what is the point of worrying? It’s who I am.”

Ella nods and faces forward. She continues to nod for a moment before turning back to Maze, "Maybe that is why you ran?"

Maze turns to her and looks at her oddly.

"It's so much easier to give your body," Ella continues, "but giving your heart when you know you will never see them again ... that's got to be hard."

Maze is silent.

"Yeah," she says solemnly as if it struck a chord with her.

Ella turns her eyes back to the wall. They both sit there deep in thought for a moment. Ella chuckles to herself and shakes her head.

“I never thought I’d be sitting here having a heart to heart with a demon,” she says.

Maze forces a smile and brings the wine up to her lips, “I think that makes you fascinating,” she says, her eyes locking with Ella’s.

They both sit back on her couch in comfortable silence. Ella seems to finally be sobering up a little while Maze stares stoically ahead, her mind trained on something else. Ella turns her head gently to Maze and watches her momentarily. She turns back to the wall in front of her.

“I didn’t come on too strong with Eric, did I? It’s just … it’s been a while,” Ella asks.

“Hm?” Maze hums as she turns to see Ella looking at her.

“No, I’m _sure_  you didn’t,” she says, jokingly; a subtext beneath her words.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ella asks, offended.

Maze laughs, “I’m just saying you don’t seem like the … take what you want, type.”

Ella looks at her shocked, “I totally am!”

Maze smiles, “Okay,” she says in a tone that suggests she is not convinced.

Ella turns back to the wall.

“I’m going to punch him in the face when I see him tomorrow.”

Maze nods, “Violence usually works for me,” she says.

“Men are assholes.”

Maze chuckles, “Yes, yes, they are.”

Ella sighs and turns to the clock on her wall. It is almost four in the morning.

“I should probably go to bed,” she says.

Maze nods and sighs. She stands up and stretches, her dress rises a few inches, and it catches Ella’s attention.

“Yeah, I should probably go too,” she says.

“You don’t have to go,” Ella says, “you can stay with me.”

Maze looks at her and chuckles, “Oh, trust me. You don’t want that.”

Ella looks at her oddly, “Why not?”

Maze glances at her, a sultriness behind her eyes. It dawns on Ella what she is saying.

“Oh,” Ella says.

“Yeah,” Maze says as she steps over Ella’s legs to head back to her heels as she leaves for real this time.

Maze begins to put on her shoes.

“Maybe I want you to stay,” Ella says, her eyes tightly closed as if she were saying something difficult to vocalize.

Maze turns to her, an intrigued look in her eyes. Ella looks up at her, squinting through her eyes at first, then locking into Maze’s intense stare.

Maze tilts her head, a tantalized looks behind her smile.

“Do you?” she says, “because I don’t think you do.”

Ella maintains Maze's stare. Her eyebrows crinkle as she gets lost deep in thought. Maze sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Okay, I'll stay, and we don't have to have sex. I'll just ... call my fuck buddy tomorrow morning," she says.

"The thing is, "Ella says, her head turning away from Maze as if still processing a thought, "You do live on."

Maze shakes her head, "What?"

Ella turns back to her and stands up, "You don't give your heart because you're afraid of non-existence, but ... you live on in the memory of everyone you've ever been with."

"Lopez, what are you talking about? Are you still drunk?" Maze says, approaching her, "Maybe you should just go to sleep."

"No, I'm not drunk. I mean, I'm still not good enough to drive but ... that's just it. You live on."

Maze shakes her head, " Ella, I don't know what you're talking about, but this isn't funny," she says.

"Imagine how many people are in heaven - _or hell_  - just ... gathered around the proverbial campfire talking about that hot piece of ass they spent the night with. Imagine that. You've lived for how long? The dawn of mankind? and you said it yourself, you've had many - _many_  - partners. You probably have a whole wing of heaven dedicated to people who just want to talk about Maze."

"I  _highly_  doubt that," Maze says, crossing her arms. Trying not to feel the emotion that is bubbling up from her center.

Ella shakes her head, "Don't you see? No matter what you do from this point forward ... you'll live on. You already have your afterlife."

"Stop talking," Maze says as she rushes her to plant a kiss on her lips.

A kiss that will keep her from finishing her thought. A kiss that will stop the barrage of truths that she isn't able to handle. A kiss that will keep Maze from having to respond.

Maze withdraws her lips and looks into her eyes to see her shocked.

"I ... I'm sorry. I didn't kn-," Maze begins to say before Ella grabs her face and continues to kiss her.

They kiss passionately. Behind it, there is a passion Maze didn't know Ella had. Maze's hands wrap around her body and snake down to her waist. Ella slowly pushes her away, and Maze stands back, her breathing heavy with arousal.

Ella reaches back and unzips her dress, letting it fall in one swoop to her ankles. She stands there in nothing but a pair of yellow panties. She steps out of the pool of fabric on the floor.

Maze’s eyes go wide. Her eyes cascade down Ella’s body and hungrily devour the sight of every inch of her body. Her eyes meet Ella’s again.

Ella looks at her, unsure of what this means, but sure she wants this. She turns to her bedroom, then back to Maze before turning and walking into her room. Maze stands there, unsure of whether or not she should follow.

Maze wants to follow. Nothing has ever stopped her from following, but this was Ella. She was capable of sex without feeling but was Ella?  _Sweet, bubbly Ella?_

Maze slowly hobbles on one heel towards Ella’s bedroom, a look in her eyes as if she is trying to desperately hold herself back. She crosses into and stands in the doorway of Ella’s bedroom. Ella sits on her bed, watching the expression on her face.

“I … I have a hunch you are going to regret this in the morning,” Maze says.

“Only one way to find out,” Ella says as she scoots herself farther back on the bed.

Maze stands in the doorway to Ella’s bedroom, fighting back the feeling growing between her legs. Ella continues to watch her. She can see the interest in her eyes and how tightly she is clinging to the door frame, trying to keep herself from walking in.

“No?” Ella asks, a playful frown on her face, “You’re just going to watch?”

Ella slowly runs her hand down her stomach and onto her damp underwear.

“Suit yourself,” she says, rubbing herself through the thin fabric of her underwear. She tilts her head back and sighs, a quiet moan rising from her throat.

Maze stands in the doorway, her eyes wide. Why is she fighting it? What does she care about crossing lines in a friendship? If Ella doesn’t care, why should she? She wants to, but she is so certain Ella would regret this in the morning.

Ella gently squirms on the bed in front of her, taking matters - quite literally – into her own hands.

_Fuck it_ , Maze thinks as she kicks off the one heel she had managed to put on and approaches the bed.

She climbs on top of Ella, who looks up at her with a smile on her face.

“How nice of you to join,” she says.

Maze leans down and begins to kiss her passionately, no interest in feeling her out first. Ella responds in kind, their tongues dancing over one another’s like no one is watching.

Ella’s reaches her hand up and slips it into her underwear. She inhales sharply as she runs her finger over her clit.

Maze looks down between them, then grabs Ella’s hand – pulling it out of her underwear. She grabs Ella’s other hand – just in case – and raises it up above her, emitting a pleased squeal from Ella.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” Maze says, “If we do this, we do this my way.”

Ella nods as Maze lets go of her hands and climbs off of her. She sits up as Maze reaches behind herself and unzips her dress. Maze shimmies it off until it is down on the floor and she is completely naked.

Ella slowly looks Maze up and down, the innocence in her eyes suddenly lost. It is replaced by a reserved maturity. Maze pauses and tilts her head curiously. She had never seen Ella in this way.

“You’ve been with a woman before, haven't you?”

Ella looks up at her, a mischievous smile behind her eyes. Maze smiles wildly, a tantalizing chuckle behind her words, “Oh,  _this_  is going to be fun.”

She climbs back on top of Ella, and they begin to kiss passionately again, this time their naked skin touching one another; the heat between them rising.

\--

Lucifer and Chloe sit in silence; his arms still wrapped around her as she leans her torso up against him. Here she is comfortable, safe, and silent.

“Are you ready to talk about it yet?” he asks, quietly.

She shakes her head.

“Well, can’t say the devil isn’t persistent,” he says.

She chuckles softly, but that chuckle turns into a weeping.

“Detective,” he says, “the joke wasn’t that bad.”

She shakes her head, trying to wipe the tears away, but they keep coming.

“No, it’s just … it’s everything. It’s so much and … I just feel … I feel so lost.”

He tightens his arms around her and rests his head against hers.

“Things will get back to normal soon, I promise.”

This new closeness allows her to feel his heartbeat through his chest. She closes her eyes. It is warm. It beats like a drum and locks her into a trance that promises safety and purpose.

“If it will make you feel better, you can stay with me tonight. I promise I will contain myself. No repeats of this morning, unless that is what you desire,” he jokes. She doesn’t respond to him, not an elbow in the rib or a strange look.

She just doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even really hear him. She’s solely focused on his heartbeat and staying in that rhythm. She holds onto it like a torch in the dark.

“Detective?” he says, pulling his head away from hers. He pulls her face up until her eyes meet his. He can see they are glazed over again. She looks at him, but she is looking more past him.

“Chloe!” he says, a concerned tone in his voice. She snaps out of it and finds her eyes meeting his.

She blinks, trying to clear the haze from her eyes.

“Sorry, I … sorry.”

“Perhaps we should consult Doctor Linda?” he asks, “You’ve been acting strange all day. Are you  _sure_  you are alright?”

“I just … I don’t feel like I’m really here. I feel like… I’m still there; In that room with the stars.”

Lucifer pulls her tighter. He should have noticed Abel’s plot earlier. Maybe if he had caught it in time, she wouldn’t be like this. He turns his eyes to the window next to him, wondering if he had managed to break her. His eyes gently cast down to a clock nearby. It is almost four in the morning.

“Will I ever feel … like me again?” she says.

“Perhaps you should rest, Detective? It’s been a long day.”

“I’m not tired,” she says.

Lucifer looks at her oddly. It’s four in the morning, and she’s been up all day,  _what does she mean she isn’t tired_? Then a thought occurs to him.

“Detective, have you eaten today?”

She sighs, “Lucifer, I’m not really hungry right now.”

He smiles lovingly and gently gets up, forcing her to stand.

“Where are you going?” she asks, suddenly cold and lost without him to hold her.

He descends the steps to his bedroom and heads behind his bar to the minifridge. He opens it to see a few bottles of champagne, a few bottles of water and a few containers of yogurt. He pulls out a cup of yogurt and grabs a spoon from the bar before turning to see Chloe standing at the top landing next to his bedroom.

“The Silver City is an eternal place, Detective. Time doesn’t exist within its walls. You could have been there for what felt like an hour or a year.”

Lucifer walks from around the bar and approaches the steps to his bedroom.

“There, you don’t have to do things like sleep, drink or eat,” he continues.

He slowly ascends the steps.

“But here, on earth, you must do all those things and more,” he says, climbing the last step to stand in front of Chloe.

He holds out the yogurt and the spoon.

“Sometimes, it helps to have a reminder of where you are.”

She waves him off, “Really, Lucifer I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”

“ _Detective_ ,” he says, his eyes lowering softly to her, “I insist.”

  
She looks at him, still not convinced.

“Please?” he asks.

She looks at him as he stares at her lovingly. She squints, looks at the yogurt and sighs. She reluctantly takes the yogurt and the spoon he offers her. She looks at it oddly.

“You don’t seem like the yogurt type,” she says, cracking open the lid.

He smiles and crosses back to his chair, grabbing his drink off the end table.

“I’m not,” he says,” I reserve those for my sexual encounters. For when they get hungry in round three.”

He comes back around to his bed as she lowers the yogurt and tosses him a look. He looks confused for a moment then it dawns on him,

“Oh, _not you_. You aren’t a sexual encounter, Darling,” he says, sitting down on the bed. She follows his lead and sits down on the bed next to him.

“Besides, you would need more than yogurt,” he says, lifting up his glass and humming into it.

She elbows him, spilling some of the drink on the collar of his shirt.

“Detective!” he says.

She smiles and digs the spoon into the yogurt. She looks at it for a moment, not at all interested in eating. In fact, it feels like she is physically repelled by the thought of eating anything. She knows Lucifer won't give it up though. She sighs and reluctantly places it in her mouth. She rolls the yogurt around in her mouth with her tongue then swallows.

“There,” she says, looking at him defiantly,” I took a bite are you happ –“

She pauses, then looks down at the yogurt. Lucifer smiles a knowing smile.

Suddenly, she’s  _ravenous_. She shoves spoon after spoonful into her mouth, moaning with relief as a hunger she hadn’t known was there pulls at her from the inside. Lucifer watches on, her moans throwing him back to that morning, when she clung to his body and wouldn't let go. Had she been searching for something to tether her to Earth? Is that why she let him touch her?

Chloe scrapes the bottom of the yogurt cup and holds the spoon in her mouth; licking off the last few globs. Suddenly it dawns on her that she isn’t alone. She slowly turns to Lucifer, who smiles devilishly at her through his glass.

“Better?” he asks.

She smiles, embarrassed, and nods. He reaches up and wipes a glob of yogurt off the side of her face, with his thumb before putting his thumb in his mouth.

Her eyes move to his tongue as it licks the yogurt off. She wishes she were that yogurt.

Lucifer tilts his head, noticing the look she is giving him. She’s not fully there yet.

“Would you like another one?” he asks. Her eyes move to him, and she nods sheepishly.

He stands up, goes back to the fridge, and pulls out another cup of yogurt. He walks back over to the bed and hands it to her, taking the empty cup from her and placing it on his bedside table. She opens the lid, and this time enjoys the yogurt slower. Lucifer crosses his legs and sips on his drink. They sit in silence as she eats.

When the last spoonful has been eaten, and Chloe drops the spoon into the empty container, she turns to him. He looks at her and can see the clarity in her eyes.

“Welcome back, Detective,” he says.

She smiles, and he grabs the empty container out of her hands to set near the other empty cup.

She straightens her sweater and pulls a loose strand of hair behind her ears. She stares out in front of her. She turns to Lucifer, still nursing his glass of bourbon.

“Will it always be like this?” she asks.

“Like what?”

“A constant fear of what might happen to me next.”

Lucifer doesn’t respond. How could he tell her there is always something around the corner? What if she wants to run? Would she run? _Should_  she run?

“Should I be afraid?” she asks, tearing up.

Lucifer looks at her, she still has neediness in her eyes, but it’s a different kind. It’s the kind that wants answers; that wants the confusion and the terror to go away. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her what the world outside of hers is really like.

He sighs and sets his drink down on the night table before slipping his shoes off. He stands up and begins to unbutton his vest.

Chloe watches him, confused for a moment before her eyes widen. She holds out her hand and stops him.

“Lucifer, I-“ she begins to say.

“Don’t worry Detective, I’m not seducing you. Though you and I both know I’ve been waiting for the moment when you’d say yes for a very long time.”

She looks at him oddly.

“Then what are you doing?” she asks as she removes her hand. He continues to unbutton his vest.

“I’m getting comfortable,” he says, “I’d like for you to join me –  _clothed_  – in bed.”

She looks at him oddly then turns to his bed.

“I imagine you’d like to be held and I would like to be comfortable while we do so,” he says.

She squints.

“Are you asking to cuddle?” she says confused.

He scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous, Detective.”

She raises her eyebrow, and a cheeky smile comes to her face.

He pauses, “Detective, I am only attempting to make you feel better.”

She nods, her face suggesting she doesn’t really believe him.

“Right, of course,” she says, “ _for me_.”

He lowers his hands, a look of annoyance on his face. She chuckles.

“Lucifer,” she says, “I get that this is new for you, I do. But …if whatever this is between us is going to work, you're going to have to be honest about your feelings.”

He looks at her, and she stares back at him defiantly.

“Yes, well it seems that yogurt has worked too well,” he says.

“But I suppose you’re right,” he says, sighing.

She nods and leans back on her hands.

‘So?” she asks.

“Detective,” he says slowly as if trying to find the words, “would you like to … embrace one another on my bed?”

Chloe smiles, “I don’t know Lucifer … I think the word you are looking for is cuddle.”

He looks at her, she is taking great joy in this. He smiles, finding it hard to avoid it.

“Right… I see. Would you like to cuddle then, Detective?” he asks.

She tilts her head back slightly and looks off in the distance.

“Hmm,” she says, thinking to herself.

She turns her head back to him, and her smile drops.

“Yes,” she says.

He nods and slides his vest off before tossing it onto the chair. She slips her shoes off and slides back on the bed. He crawls onto the bed next to her and lays down.

He turns to her as she gently moves in to rest just inside his arms. Her head falls to his chest, and she can hear his heartbeat again. It is fainter than before, but it is there.

It doesn’t pull at her like it did before with the promise of relief, but nonetheless, she takes solace in hearing it; in smelling his cologne. They lay there quiet for a moment. He was right, she thinks, this  _does_  make her feel better.

“Detective, I would never let anyone harm you.”

She pulls him closer, and he rests his chin on her head.

They lay in silence for a little while longer.  _This is nice_ , she thinks. After what felt like a month of one thing after the other, this moment of silence, of being close to him felt safe and calm and … right.

“Can we talk about it now?” he asks.

“Stop talking,” she says.

He guffaws, and the room dips into silence again. They lay comfortably, so comfortably that he squints his eyes. Usually, at night, he would lay in bed next to whatever woman he had the pleasure of ravishing.

She would lay there, spent and exhausted while he would lay there thinking about the detective. When he would greet her in the morning. When she would look at him as if he were important.

Now, with the detective in his arms, what was there to think about? She was in his arms after seeing his true face; after he had saved the city; after she had seen his rage and didn’t run. His mind was still.

Was it because he didn’t have to think of her? He didn’t have to think of what she was doing at that moment? Or how he would greet her the next morning? Was it because he didn’t have that feeling weighing on his chest anymore?

“You know, Detective, I don’t believe I’ve ever told a woman I loved them. Well, outside of the throws, of passion of course. It’s actually quite … a relief.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling.

“I suppose I ... was afraid of what you’d say. That you wouldn’t feel safe around me. And how could I blame you? Sometimes I don’t feel safe around myself. Sometimes even I feel …  _terrified_. Terrified of what I might do or … who I might hurt.”

She adjusts herself, resting a hand on his chest.

“Though, I do believe this is the first time in, well … maybe ever, that I haven’t felt so … alone,” he says a small smile coming to his face.

There is silence, no response.

“Detective?” he asks as he looks down to see Chloe is fast asleep.

He smiles and reaches for his glass, taking a sip of it. He crosses his legs and lays there, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the sound of her breath rising and falling.

\--

Maze stares at the ceiling, looking extremely bored. She squints her eyes then sighs before propping herself up on her elbows. She looks down to see Ella between her legs, her mouth happily licking the soft and wet lips between her legs.  
It is clear she is enjoying it more than Maze is. Maze reaches down and brushes loose hair away from her face. Ella’s eyes glance up to her; full of lust.

“This … this isn’t working,” Maze says, flatly.

Ella frowns and pulls herself away from Maze.

“What? Why? Am I doing something wrong?” she asks

Maze shakes her head, “I’m not some drunk college chick who hasn’t yet had an orgasm but somehow has fucked twenty different guys. I’m experienced and this … this is not doing anything for me.”

Ella leans back on her knees and crosses her arms.

“Well then what do you like? What do you want me to do?” she says.

Maze pauses for a moment and tilts her head, looking Ella up and down.

She still had her panties on, and her face was scrunched up like she was two seconds from being too annoyed to continue. Her anger was …  _kind of hot_.

“Let me show you,” she says, licking her teeth.

She reaches up and pulls Ella on top of her, kissing her passionately. Ella’s startled at the sudden move but begins to melt into her skin quickly. Maze flips Ella on her back quickly and with ease. Ella reaches down to pull off her panties, but Maze stops her.

“Leave them on,” she says, pushing her hands out the way, “I’m not going to warn you about hands again. One more time and they are getting tied down.”

Ella smiles, her heart racing,” Is that a promise?”

Maze meets her eyes and slowly lowers her face to Ella’s thighs, never breaking eye contact. Ella’s heart races with anticipation.  
Maze drops her eyes to the yellow fabric that barely covers Ella and gets goosebumps.

She had been thinking of this all night, ever since she saw Ella walk up to her in that dress; ever since she smelled that perfume. She didn’t believe it would happen. After all, Ella was her friend.

Ella was also not really her type. Ella was bubbly and happy all the time, she also wore that cross around her neck. Still, there was something nice about this, about getting what she wanted against all the odds.

Maze reaches out and spreads Ella’s legs, giving her no chance to close them. She leans in and plants her mouth on the thin fabric, licking her between her panties. Ella elicits a sound that lets Maze know she likes it.

Maze reaches up and rubs her thumb gently over Ella’s clit. Ella squirms in delight. Maze smiles. She’s been with enough humans to know they are all the same. She could play Ella like a fiddle and listen to the sweet music she produces. In fact, that is  _precisely_  what she wants to do.

She hooks her fingers under the crotch of Ella’s panties and moves them aside. She doesn’t even stop to take in her neatly trimmed pubic hairs or her wet and engorged lips.

Maze’s mouth meets Ella’s pussy immediately, sending a shock through Ella’s body as her head tilts back in ecstasy.

‘Ohhh,” she elicits, her words elongated with desire.

She relaxes into Maze’s touch as Maze expertly traces her tongue around Ella’s sensitive clit. She licks and sucks as if this is what she was born to do; as if she were home. Ella’s breathing becomes heavy; carrying with it the promise of release and laden with a sensuality Maze hadn’t expected.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re good at that,” Ella says between breaths. She tilts her head back, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure.

Maze smiles into her. This.  _This_  is what she wanted.

Maze reaches under Ella’s thighs and lifts them, before pushing them towards Ella and forcing her into a position that exposes her even more. She goes back in, hungrily lapping and licking.

She rolls her tongue across Ella’s clit before playfully teasing around her entrance. Ella lays there, fully exposed and under Maze’s control.  
Ella’s underwear starts to get in the way, so Maze let’s go of her thighs and hooks her thumbs into the waistband on Ella’s underwear.

Ella reaches down to help, and Maze cuts her an angry look.

“Hands,” she says sternly, one final time. She had already promised not to warn her again, and Ella could see in her eyes she was being strangely kind by warning her instead of punishing her. She was hoping to be punished, but the thought that a demon might have a different idea of what that means keeps her from disobeying. She still couldn’t help but wonder what else Maze had in store.

Maze pulls the underwear off and goes back to licking and tracing her name – her full name – into Ella’s body.

“Maze,” she whispers, followed by an elongated “Oh fuck,” as she sits up, wanting to watch what is happening. Their eyes lock, and it seems to only spurs Maze on. Ella really wants to put her hand on the back of Maze’s head, to prevent her from leaving that spot. That spot that is making her legs feel like jelly and her stomach flutter.

She can’t look away from Maze, her eyes are so deep like she knows what she is doing to her; like she  _wants_  Ella to watch.

Ella tilts her head back as an overwhelming feeling hits her again, she grabs tightly to the bedspreads, holding on as she rides out the tiny wave of pleasure. She tilts her head back up and locks eyes again with Maze. In them, she can see the storm on the horizon, and it excites her.

Maze’s mouth finally leaves Ella as she slowly kisses up Ella’s stomach. It gives her a small moment of reprieve to catch her breath. Maze takes a moment to lick teasingly around her nipples before coming up and passionately kissing her. Ella kisses her hungrily, tasting the remnants of her own body on Maze’s lips.

“That’s all?,” Ella says, trying to seem not at all impressed, “Pfft. I can do that,” she says as she goes to sit up. Maze puts a hand on her chest and pushes her back down.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Maze says as she reaches up and gently places her fingers in her mouth. She licks them seductively as Ella stares on. Ella’s eyes trace down Maze’s naked body as she hovers over her.

_God, she's hot._

Maze takes her fingers out her mouth as she straddles Ella’s body. She leans down and gently begins to lick and kiss Ella’s neck as she reaches between them and slowly inserts one finger into Ella. Ella hums pleasantly in response to both actions. Satisfied she is comfortable, Maze slips the second one in, eliciting a delightful moan from Ella.

Maze kisses down to Ella’s collarbone. There, she bites it playfully as her fingers slide in and out of Ella with very little resistance.

“Maze,” Ella pleads breathlessly as she instinctively bucks her hips.

Maze’s eyes turn to her. She can sweat beads gently forming on the valley between her breasts; her nipples standing at arousal. Ella’s head tilts back, but Maze can still see her eyes are closed in deep concentration and her mouth is wide open as she gasps for breath; seemingly locked in a losing battle.

Usually, with humans, they say things like “ _Oh my God_ ” over and over again, but Ella was saying her name. Ella,  _Ms. I-wear-a-cross-on-my-neck Lopez_ , was saying her name. It only made Maze more eager to please. It only made Maze more eager to make her cum.

Maze gently kisses down her collarbone until she finds the sensitive bud of her nipple. He tongue traces circles around it before engulfing it and sweetly suckling.

Maze slides her leg underneath Ella’s, so she is between her legs instead of straddling her. Then, she lowers herself so that her head is between Ella’s legs again. Quickly her mouth meet’s Ella’s pussy, forcing Ella to sit up as almost a reaction.

Maze’s eyes look up at her as she begins to lick her again, this time as her fingers continue to massage her insides. Ella tilts her head back and grabs tightly onto her sheets as she rides another small wave of pleasure, this one bigger than the last.

“Don’t stop,” she pleads as she grinds her hips, forcing Maze’s fingers to hit exactly where she wants. Maze has no intention of stopping.

“Maze,” she moans, as her breathing becomes loud an unhindered, carrying with it moans of pleasure that becomes music to Maze’s ears. She is almost there, Maze can tell, but  _almost is not enough._

Maze continues to hungrily lick and lap at her, making sure to curl her fingers and lovingly encircle her increasingly sensitive clit.

“Maze,” she hoarsely whispers, teetering on the edge of orgasm. It only spurs Maze on, she wants her there  _now_.

“Yes,” Ella hisses between her teeth as her hand reaches and holds onto the back of Maze’s head. Maze reaches up and forcefully pins it to the bed. Ella’s head tilts her head back, her back arches, and her muscles tense as an orgasm hits her.

“Fuck,” she says between her teeth, her face seemingly pained and her body out of her control. She moans loudly with each new wave of pleasure and Maze continues to lick as Ella attempts to close her legs; her sensitive parts becoming too sensitive.

She squirms in a delightful pain as wave after wave hits her and she rides them to the end of her orgasm. At the end of it, she collapses onto the bed, her breathing heavy and her muscles overly relaxed.

Maze continues to lick gently until Ella stops squirming and becomes still; unresponsive to her touch. She withdraws her fingers and licks them happily.

“That’s what I want you to do,” she says. She looks up to see Ella’s head turned to the side, her breath stabilizing as she gently falls asleep. Maze slouches slightly in disappointment.

_“Really?”_  she says. She stares on as Ella sleeps and sighs. It was probably for the best anyway. Ella wouldn’t have been able to do that to her.

She looks around for a moment, trying to figure out what to do now.

Should she leave? If she left and Ella woke up, she might feel as though Maze was upset with her.

Suddenly she remembers she still has a glass of wine in the living room. She crawls off the bed, still completely nude, and exits the bedroom. As soon as she is in the living room, she sees her glass and smiles.

“There it is,’ she says to herself. She heads towards the coffee table and picks it up. She chugs it in one gulp then sighs. What does she do now? She certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep in the aroused state she is in. She sets the glass back on the table.

Her eyes run to a blue case at the end of the coffee table that reads, “Battle War IV.”

Curiously she reaches over and picks it up. It’s a video game.

“Huh,” she says to herself, her interest piqued. She turns it over, and her eyes widen as she sees scenes of gunfights and battle. Her eyes turn to the television, then down to Ella’s PlayStation.

\--

Dan lays on his couch, watching the TV on low volume. His eyes look weary as if he is finally in the throes of falling asleep. His eyes close momentarily, before popping back open.

They droop closed again until he lets out a sigh and sits up. He reaches for the remote and turns off the television, plunging his apartment into darkness.

He lays back down on the couch, getting himself comfortable as his eyes close. It had been a long day. He had been so busy with work and so busy with trying to figure out the events of last night that he had fully drained himself.

He didn’t even realize it was late and that he needed to pick of Trixie. By the time he got there, she was already fast asleep, her pink backpack by her side. He hadn’t even realized he was the last person in the precinct, working under the glow of his singular lamp.

Now, here he was, sinking into his couch and falling into a deep comfortable sleep. He is so tired he doesn’t even care the sofa is old and will leave him with a sore back in the morning. He is so tired he hadn’t yet realized that though he overslept that morning, it felt like he hadn’t slept at all that night.

He is so tired, he didn’t even register the picture of him and Charlotte on his bedside table.

 --

Inside of a giant Colosseum sits thousands of Angels, comfortably seated along every edge and involved in personal conversations. The roof is open and exposed to an infinite sky of stars and nebula; each one blocked out by more angels, hovering gently over the center.

In the middle stands God, a calm and collected figure among curious angels who don’t understand why they’ve been called together like this. It’s been centuries since they all had a meeting of this manner.

“Children,” God says. His voice is soft, but anchored somewhere so stable there is no threat of cracking. Despite there being PA system, his voice is just as loud in the front row as in the sky above; as if it is everywhere at once.

Immediately the chattering between angels stops and all attention is on him. By his side, stands Michael, his hands relaxed but his stance strong and sturdy.

“It is so good to see all of you. It’s been ages since all of my children were in one room at once,” he says, as his eyes downcast almost sadly, “well, most of them at least.”

The angels look at one another, exchanging solemn glances.

Through a doorway in the back of the Colosseum, Amenadiel enters. A few angels nearby glance at him oddly, then turn back to God.

Amenadiel crosses his arms and leans against the back wall.

“You may be wondering why I’ve summoned you all here today,” God says from the center.

His eyes turn to Amenadiel, and even though Amenadiel can’t see that far, he just knows God is looking at him. He stands up straight and uncrosses his arms.

“It is because the fruits of our labor have ripened and it is time to harvest them,” he says.

The angels look at one another and murmur.

An angel next to Amenadiel turns to his neighbor and says,” What is he talking about?”

Amenadiel briefly eyes them, then turns his attention back to God.

“I have given each of you a task to complete, and most of you have completed those tasks with exceptional enthusiasm,” he says, “But I must admit to you that I too have a task. And each of your tasks was purely in the service to my own; my great plan.”

Michael turns to God. Will he finally share what this plan of his is? What the point of their existence is?

“Now,” God says, turning to his captive audience, “I understand it can be difficult to uphold these tasks. The more contact you have with humans, be it as Guardians or Messengers, the harder it may be to believe in my plan. So, let me remind you that you have something mere mortals do not and that is the knowledge of the eternal. For you, believing in each other and the world we’ve come to call home is not faith; it is truth.”

Michael lowers his head in shame. God turns to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Michael looks up and is met with the loving stare of God.

“Every time you stray from my plan, you stray from the truth,” he says to them, while still staring at Michael lovingly.

“And each time I will forgive you because even then, straying is part of my plan.”

“What are you saying, Father?” Michael says.

“I am your creator,” he says, the galaxy swirling in his eyes, “I know all that is, all that was and all there will ever be. I created the sky so that Samael could litter them with fire, and I created the worlds so that life could grow and die and replenish itself. I am all knowing and all powerful. Do not take liberty with my forgiving nature.”

The Angels sit uncomfortably. God is angry at someone.

An Angel in the sky speaks up, “So, this is about Samael?” he asks.

God collects himself and brushes back the thin white filaments of his hair. They shock and snap like live electric wires against each other. He sighs and closes his eyes.

 “I believe we’ve reached a point when even the smallest change of heart may change the course of many lives and prevent the birth of something wonderful,” he says, opening his eyes and scanning the crowd lovingly.

“The final war is near,” he says, eliciting a gasp from the crowd as the murmur amongst each other. Michael shakes his head.

“You told me that I needn’t worry, Father,” he says.

God turns to him, “and you still need not worry. Now is not the time to rile up our troops. They will need their rest.”

An Angel in the front row stands up, “So Samael is coming to claim the Silver City?” he asks, “I will fight for our home!”

Another Angel in the back row stands up, “As will I Father!”

Amenadiel looks as several angels stand up, pledging their allegiance to the city.

God smiles and raises his hand, instructing them to have a seat.

“Be Calm children,” he says softly, “we have much time to prepare."

They sit down, their blood boiling and ready to fight. God smiles, then his smile falls.

"Samael will visit us thrice," he says, "and each time you will welcome him as your brother.”

They look at one another, not willing to do that.

“Samael, for all his faults is still the morning star. He is still your brother and you will treat him as such.”

Michael scrunches his lips, and God turns to him. He straightens his face and nods.

“Yes, Father,” he says.

“However,” God continues, “In his final visit, we will need the strength of heaven to hold the gates. Should you want to volunteer at that time, you have my blessing.”

Amanediel guffaws, not understanding why God – of all beings in existence – would need to warn the Silver City of Lucifer. He’s had the chance to work and live alongside Lucifer for months now and … Lucifer’s interest was not in reclaiming the Silver City.

Lucifer has done nothing but go on and on about how boring the Silver City is and how obnoxiously obedient its occupants were.

Why would he want to storm the gates? Besides, all of his energy is devoted to Chloe. He knows God is not lying, he has no need to but … his experience tells him there is more to this. Maybe _he_  should be a detective. He shakes his head, confused.

“You have something to say Amenadiel?” God asks him. The Angels all turn to him, and his face falls.

“Come, come closer so that your brothers and sisters might see you,” he says.

Amenadiel looks around nervously before walking forward and stepping down the steps.

“You are not on Earth anymore, my child. Use your wings,” God says.

Amenadiel spreads his wings and gently flies to the center of the circle. Michael eyes him wearily, his hand perched gently on his sword. God smiles and reaches out to him to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Now,” he says, turning Amenadiel so that all of the Angels can hear him, “What has you confused?”

“I …, “he says, staring out onto thousands of Angels who eye him with intrigue and suspicion.

“I just… I’ve been spending a lot of time with Luc- … I mean, Samael, and he doesn’t seem that interested in reclaiming a position in the Silver City.”

God nods and smiles, “At the moment no, his interests are singular. But his mind will change, and when it does, he will stop at nothing.”

Amenadiel squints his eyes, “It will?”

God smiles and nods, laying a hand on the back of Amenadiel’s neck.

“Do not betray your truth, my child. The time we are in is of great importance to my plan.”

It still doesn’t make sense to Amenadiel. If God knew this would happen, why would he allow it to happen? Why not prevent it from happening?

“He is just an Angel, father,” Amenadiel says, shaking his head “why be so calm about his defiance of the laws of heaven? If he plans to reclaim the Silver City, why not strike him down now? Why not lock him back to where he belongs?”

“My task is not to lead,” God says, looking at Amenadiel, “but to offer the path.”

"So you wouldn't stop Lu-... Samael from storming the city?"

"Stop?" he asks, "It is part of my plan."

  
Amanediel sighs in frustration, "And just what is your plan, Father? Because it all seems ... confusing."

The other angels eye Amenadiel, then turn their eyes to God, hoping for an answer to a question they've all had.

  
"I cannot tell you that," he says before turning back to the Angels, " I cannot tell any of you that for we are still in fragile times. Any mention of what is to come may alter the course of all we've worked so hard for," he says.

He turns back to Amenadiel.

God’s tilts his head as if seeing something he hadn't seen before. As if a truth he had already acknowledged wasn't yet apparent. Amenadiel looks towards him, seeing the galaxy swirling behind his eyes.

“You said you’ve spent time with Samael, correct?” he asks, trying to lead Amenadiel to the answer.

Amenadiel nods, “yes.”

“So, you’ve seen what your brother has done? What he is capable of?”

Amenadiel nods and looks towards his feet in shame. Lucifer has not always been the standard of Angel, sure. Rebellion is one thing, but what father is talking about is … Mutiny. With Chloe by his side, Lucifer doesn’t seem like the mutinous type.

“I understand,” God says, reading Amenadiels mind. Amenadiel looks up. He hadn't said anything. God smiles.

“I am God, remember?”

Amenadiel chuckles, he had spent so much time on earth he had forgotten what it was like to speak with Father.

“My question to you is simple. After all the time you’ve spent with Samael, after witnessing all that he is capable of, what makes you certain he is still an Angel?”

Michael immediately turns his head to God, confusion, and horror in his eyes.

Has Samael shed his Angel wings? Has he become something different? Something … _worse_?  _What is worse than an Angel?_

God turns to Michael, a knowing look in his eyes. Michael swallows hard. He has a feeling he must prepare the troops.


End file.
